Project Asclepius
by Vathara
Summary: Survival is just the beginning. Our mad scientists consider consequences... some of which came along for the ride. Sequel to "Project Tatterdemalion".
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own Bleach. Alas. Sequel to "Project Tatterdemalion". And tag.0 made a map! http:// vathara (dot) t1goold (dot) net/ProjectAsclepius (dot) html

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Gulping down the last of her coffee amongst the rest of the hastily-grabbed medical personnel on the shuttle, Dr. Retsu Unohana eyed the nondescript government agent stalking down the aisle. "Mr. Smith." As if that were really his name. "There's no settlement this far from Satoyama Spaceport on the whole _planet_."

The agent gave her one more in a series of bland looks. "Everything will be explained when we get there, Doctor. Which-" He listened to the almost-subliminal hum of the shuttle engines. "Buckle up, ladies and gentlemen. We're landing."

"Landing where?" Retsu murmured under her breath. "To treat what?" Not that she expected asking to get her answers, any more than it had the last five times. So far as she could tell, they'd all been shoved on board with little more than a quick check of security clearances, a request to volunteer for a medical emergency, and enough gear to treat a brigade of Quincys. Assuming any branch of the government had that many; they weren't supposed to be that common. Certainly not on a first-settlement planet like Satoyama.

"From the supplies we've been shipped with, I'd almost say we're dealing with a disaster." Administrative specialist Nanao Ise leaned back in the seat next to her. "Medical packs, prefab barracks, at least three grief counselors in with the medics…."

_And the fact that we're both here_, Retsu added silently. She didn't know Nanao well, but they'd shared coffee and small talk in the wake of a tsunami on Oceanus. She mended bodies; Ise kept supplies and people moving so survivors could mend the rest.

Still. Something didn't seem right. Retsu shook her head. "Why would a natural disaster need security clearances?"

Light glinted off Nanao's antique glasses. "Who said it was a _natural_ disaster?"

_What else could it be?_ Retsu almost said, as the shuttle door opened, letting in a green waft of plants that didn't grow anywhere on the West Continent. But stopped herself. She'd seen the aftermath of Confederacy pirate raids, and "unaffiliated fanatic groups" from the Satrapy.

Still. Even if it had been an "incident", there shouldn't be this level of security.

Boots thundered up the ramp; grim-faced, tired security personnel with Army insignia, whose unit - no, units, there were at least two - Retsu didn't recognize. "I'm Captain Gary Rollefson," the more genteel-looking uniformed blond stated. His smile was probably meant to be friendly, but only looked exhausted. "This area is under the command of General Yamamoto-Genryuusai. As you might guess, he's my boss. Right now we have a… refugee situation. I'd tell you what happened, but frankly, until you see the videos, I don't think you'd _believe_ it. Those, you'll see inside. For reasons which will become obvious, they were far too classified to even transmit to this shuttle." He rubbed his eyes, no longer bothering to hide their shadows. "For now, just know that your patients have been through hell… and that we have about six hundred survivors, out of a facility that was originally staffed with almost a thousand."

_One in three?_ Retsu's eyes widened. _Over thirty percent fatalities? What_ happened?

"And if your patients talk about monsters…." The captain's gaze swept them all, dead serious. "Believe them."

"Monsters?" Retsu murmured, lost in the sudden babble. Ise was silent, thinking hard.

And the rougher-looking soldier with a shorter crewcut and different unit patch was heading her direction. "Dr. Retsu Unohana?"

"Yes-" Her eyes darted toward his subtler insignia. "Sergeant?"

"Petrillo," he nodded. "Need you to come with me, Doctor."

"Sergeant!" Captain Rollefson said sharply. "Dr. Unohana. You're heading into a high-risk situation, you have every right to refuse-"

"Going back on the general's word?" The sergeant shook his head. "Bad idea. Sir."

"She needs to know-"

"The doc needs to know," Petrillo interrupted, "that we've got hurt people who need her help." He met her gaze, dark eyes serious. "Ma'am. Right now we've got a female patient - nurse, actually - with extensive lacerations, whose only help right now is one scared-white paramedic, a couple of volunteers who've never done first aid before, and a doc whose specialty is mice. And outside of aspirin, nothing we've got for painkillers is working." He raised a thick brow at her. "Think you'd agree with me that shoving aspirin down the throat of somebody who's already bleeding is a bad idea."

_No, really?_ "Lacerations?" Retsu asked briskly, already seizing her gear.

"She was chewed on."

Silence rippled out from them. Nanao swallowed hard. "By what?" the administrative specialist dared.

"We called 'em Hollows," Petrillo said grimly. "The captain here'll get you briefed." He turned back to Retsu. "Dr. Unohana?"

"Cargo," she said briefly, already heading that way. "If standard anesthetics aren't enough, I suppose it makes sense someone thought it would be reasonable to try an old - but viable - one like ether, no matter how explosive it can be under the wrong circumstances-"

"Explosive?" Rollefson squeaked.

"It's perfectly safe," Retsu smiled at him. "Standard transport procedure, packed in honeycomb mini-cells with reinforced membranes. But yes, diethyl ether can be explosive in large quantities, mixed with oxygen."

"Urahara, you son of a bitch," Petrillo said with admiration, as Rollefson made choked noises of protest. "By all means, Doc. Let's go get your knockout gas."

"And why," Retsu asked in an undertone, as Petrillo hoisted the paired cylinders and an odd, roughly meter-long trunk with little obvious effort, "would any of my patients want to blow something up?"

The sergeant held up a finger for silence as they walked out of the shuttle, waiting until they were out of even the most paranoid earshot. "Call it preventive medicine."

Retsu stopped in her tracks. "Sergeant. I'm a doctor. I _will_ help these people. But I would appreciate the truth."

Sighing, he ran fingers through his crewcut. "You're going to meet the people who ended up taking on the monsters hand-to-hand. They really, _really_ don't want to do that again. If setting up a couple booby-traps will help them sleep - hell, I'd give 'em grenades if the general would clear it."

Ominous. And not everything. "And?"

Petrillo winced, and jerked his head back toward the bulk of the refugee camp, where solid prefab barracks and kitchens were going up like clockwork. "Some of those guys have already tried to kill them."

"What?" Retsu stared at him, unwilling to believe her ears. "Why?"

"'Cause if you don't know what you're walking into, they look a little… scary."

"And you're not telling me what I'm walking into," Retsu said levelly. "Why?"

"Because the only thing that scares them more than the monsters, is thinking they might not be sane," Petrillo said bluntly. "They want an outside eye. They want to live, damn it - but they want to be sure the bastard who tried to kill them really _was_ a bastard, and not somebody getting an attack of good sense."

Retsu gave him the same look she'd level on a nervous intern. "Do you think they're sane?"

"_I_ think they need a chance to yell and scream and hit things. I'm sure as hell going to. Just as soon as my guys wake up, and we can get off duty and get blind, stinking drunk for the guys who didn't make it. But before any of them are going to stop vibrating long enough to try that? They need proof." Stiff-shouldered, he stalked off again.

_Out of sight of the rest of the camp_, Retsu noted, following the sergeant up the path newly-beaten into the ferns. She glanced up at the moss-decked trees they were walking under; spider-webs and gray-green threads of epiphytes and odd, strange flowers that probably hosted the singing amphibians that had just fallen silent. _Looks like just foot traffic through here… how did they bring out any structures, you wouldn't want to hover a shuttle so close to these trees-_

They hadn't.

Tents were green domes on the side of the hill, huddled near a large, cavernous shelter whose darker green mottling almost matched the mist forest below it. There was the silver dome of a satellite dish, the quiet hum of a free-standing fusion generator, and a mid-sized brown awning that had been divided with opaque hanging netting to make an outdoor shower.

_Military pack-in style_, Retsu thought, recognizing at least some of the items from light reading on Special Forces units. _They didn't bring a shuttle in here because they didn't have to._

But - the sergeant had said most of them had no first aid training. Meaning they _couldn't_ be Special Forces. Why would civilians be using equipment meant for a long-range military reconnaissance patrol?

"These… Hollows," Retsu said, a few steps behind Petrillo as he traded nods with a younger, black-haired soldier whose nametag read _Shiba_. "If they're so afraid, you'd think they'd want to be behind walls…."

Shiba snorted. "Inch-thick steel didn't stop those things."

"Damn straight," Petrillo smiled wryly, jerking a thumb back toward the main camp. "If everybody else wants to stay in a lunchbox, that's their problem."

Retsu tried not to flinch at the image that brought to mind. _Monsters? How? From where?_ The planet had been surveyed before anyone settled here, for goodness' sake; anything larger than a hummingbird should have been found by now. "Some might call that a bit harsh."

"Dr. Retsu Unohana," Shiba said neutrally. "General practitioner with a known specialization in post-disaster trauma care. Classified specialization in Quincy medicine. You've never been specifically tapped for infectious outbreaks, but you're familiar with them in the context of disasters, and you wound up in the end of the Recluse Catarrh. You've published some well-received articles on the psychology of plagues - from historical speculation on pre-space bubonic plague and Ebola to Strickland's and the Catarrh itself."

Which had been strongly rumored to be an escaped terrorist bio-weapon, killing nearly a million people on the fractious planet of Galapagos 2.0 before updated Panimmunity techniques and stellar investigative work had brought the new plague - and its possible fanatic creators - to a dead halt. Retsu held her hands still on the grip of her kit, unwilling to let the icy spike of unease show.

"Maybe if we'd had you with us, we would have known Colonel Hughes was going to crack the way he did," Shiba went on. "Wouldn't have saved our team. But maybe Sarge and I wouldn't be standing here wondering if we're going to have to shoot some poor panicky idiots who get it into their heads that Hughes made a good start, and they ought to _finish_ it."

_What?_

"Kaien," Petrillo said warningly.

The younger man looked down. "Sorry, Sarge."

"Lot of info," his commander observed, tacitly accepting the apology.

"Isshin put Kisuke on it. He was starting to look a little green. And they've already got enough hands holding Isane down."

"Doesn't think the general will keep them updated?" Petrillo said dryly.

Kaien looked at him askance. "Would you?"

"Heh."

"You said, _tried_ to kill them!" Retsu finally managed.

Petrillo's smile turned even more sardonic. "Figured you'd put patients before autopsies."

Well, of course, but- "Is there a contagious pathogen in there, Sergeant?"

_"No,"_ he and Kaien said at once.

"There's a prototype vaccine, but all the viral samples were burned," Kaien added grimly.

"That's going to make new cases difficult to treat," Retsu objected.

"Doc. Trust us. _Nobody_ was going to risk taking a sample of Madsen's Hollow out of that hell," Petrillo said darkly. "And you can't _treat_ cases of it."

_Argue later_, Retsu told herself. "Where's my patient?"

Measuring her with his gaze, Petrillo jerked his head toward the main shelter.

Squaring her shoulders, Retsu hefted her kit. "If they're as nervous as you imply, you'd better announce me."

"Already done." Kaien waved to shadows that vanished among the tents. "Major Kyouraku and Quincy Ishida will let them know."

"By communicator?" Retsu frowned.

"Something like that."

_Next exam I do on you, Kaien, you get the cold probes_, Retsu promised herself. Narrowed her eyes, and headed for the entryway.

Lights overhead, also standard hardened pack-in gear. A translucent panel walled off part of the shelter to her left, shadows of cots pushed together in twos and threes still visible… well, anyone might be frightened to sleep alone after a disaster. Most of the rest of the shelter to her right was partitioned off with more opaque fabric; likely where the Kisuke Kaien had mentioned was busily hacking classified files. There was a portable sink and cook-stove, source of an almost homey smell of mac and cheese, hotdogs, and instant lemonade that was currently warring with a tang of disinfectant. And seated on a stool just out of sight of the entrance-

Her kit fell from nerveless fingers, and Retsu was distantly glad everything was packed to be almost unbreakable.

_Not happening. This is… not happening…._

A blonde woman wearing gloves whispered something encouraging to her patient, and stepped out of the knot toward Retsu. "Dr. Unohana? I'm Dr. Masaki Shiba. Biologist," she added with a warm smile, "so I really hope you can help us out."

Retsu blinked. Tried to clear her throat. Blinked again. "What… how…?"

Golden brows drew down, concerned; Masaki nodded in sudden comprehension. "It's a long story, and we'll fill you in as soon as we patch Isane up."

Isane. Patient. Right. She would not faint, Retsu told herself firmly. She'd walked through the aftermath of earthquakes, fires, and tsunamis, and there weren't even any body parts lying around right now. "You're Isane?"

"Nurse Isane Kotetsu," the silver-haired woman in the midst of a half-dozen people said, politeness somewhat strained by pain.

Masaki smiled ruefully. "And this is my husband, Dr. Isshin Shiba. Geneticist."

"Hi," grinned the black-haired man hanging onto Isane's upper right tentacle.

_Tentacles. Except for Masaki, they all have… they're all in scrubs. Focus on that._ "Shiba. You look like Kaien." Except for the tentacles. _Furry_ tentacles. She didn't know whether to faint or giggle. Or scream.

"I should," Isshin shrugged, setting too many muscles wriggling. "He's my cousin."

"How did that happen?" Retsu managed.

He _winked_ at her. "Well, my mother said that when an aunt and uncle love each other _very_ much-"

"Isshin!" Masaki exclaimed with fond exasperation.

A purple tentacle smacked him on the back of the head for emphasis. "Yoruichi Shihouin, field ecologist," the tentacle's dark-skinned owner introduced herself, hanging onto Isane's lower right tentacle. "The quiet young man across from me is our paramedic, Hanatarou Yamada-"

"Hi," a pale brunet whispered, dropping Retsu's gaze almost as soon as he met it, staring at his hands as he knelt to hold down Isane's lower left tentacle.

"-Over there is our data analyst, Juushirou Ukitake-"

A white-haired head nodded, but the bulk of Juushirou's attention was obviously focused on how to shift his grip on silver-furred muscle without it springing free.

"-The youngster scowling in the corner is Toushirou Hitsugaya-"

_Elf_, was Retsu's first stunned thought, glancing at the puff of white hair, the large emerald eyes made even more intensely green by ice-blue, somewhat oversized scrubs. He scowled harder, and jerked his gaze back to the battered graphic novel in his hands, squeezing farther into the loose fabric of the corner, snow-furred tentacles wrapped protectively around him.

_Fetal position. He's not mad, he's_ scared.

_He's just a kid…._

"-Major Kyouraku and Ishida are out on watch. Captain Tsukabishi, one of our physicists, is looking after the Sergeant's two strikers in their chrysalides-"

"Chrysalides," Retsu echoed faintly. "Of course."

"-And Kisuke's buried in the Internet trying to ward off surprises," Yoruichi finished, apparently determined to steam-roll over any impeding hysterics. She raised her voice. "Get out here and be polite. The doctor brought you _flammables_."

"Now, how could I resist an offer like that?" A blond stepped out from behind the opaque panel, grinning shamelessly. "Kisuke Urahara. Nice to meet you."

_Think. Think_, Retsu told herself. "The other physicist?"

"Materials scientist, to be specific. And physicist. And biologist. Among other things."

Wonderful. A bona fide genius. With a smile so confident it made her want to slap him silly. There was no way a smile like that belonged on someone smart enough that ordinary life was probably hell until he got to college-

_It's an act._

Shocked out of her panic, Retsu closed her eyes. _Plague psychology. Forget what they look like. Forget that this is_ impossible. _Who are they?_

Frightened. Angry. Glad, but bewildered to even be alive, and worried they wouldn't stay that way….

_A farm wife wakes in a house of the Plague's dead, wondering why God's wrath hasn't taken her too. A little girl gets up from what felt like a bad flu, while around her adults hemorrhage to death from Ebola. A detective two years short of retirement almost breaks my hand, trying not to weep, cursing any god out there that something as simple as the chlorinated water up his nose from a daily swim could have saved the rest of his squad. _

Their world had died around them, and they'd somehow failed to die with it. And even with all the Republic's science and technology and education… deep down, humans weren't very rational creatures.

"Head down, Doc." Petrillo put a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Slow breaths. You know the drill."

Right. Hyperventilation lowered the level of carbon dioxide in the blood, increasing the risk of passing out. Which seemed horribly tempting.

_Enough self-indulgence._ Retsu straightened her shoulders. "I'm sorry. This is just…." What could she say? "More than I expected."

"I think we find your reaction oddly reassuring." Having finally secured the grip he wanted, Juushirou gave her a shy smile. "If something hadn't tried to eat me, I'd probably be hiding in a closet."

"Good point," Yoruichi chuckled. "We did end up rather busy, didn't we?"

Which could only have been a good thing, considering the circumstances, Retsu knew. Being able to _do_ something about an imminent peril was one of the best antidepressants out there.

Of course, once you had time to think afterwards… well, then things could get sticky.

"Take that ether tank, but leave mine alone, Kisuke," Retsu said briskly, heading for the sink to scrub up. "Tell me where you're hurt, Isane."

"Just - where Yoruichi's holding me, mostly…."

One of the tentacles. Of course. The day kept getting better.

"And some fairly deep claw-marks on her back," Masaki said matter-of-factly, helping Retsu don her gloves. "We were able to clean those, and they seem to be healing. But the tentacles are almost as much nerves as muscle, so…."

Like trying to treat something… well, almost like a very big tongue. No wonder Isane wanted to be unconscious. "Toushirou-"

"What?"

_Definitely trying to be mad so he won't be scared_, Retsu thought wryly. _They seem to be tolerating it… is it just that they think he's suffered more than they have, because he's a child?_

Then again, where were his parents?

"I'd like it if you could help us handle the ether," Retsu went on, deliberately ignoring his tone. "It's mostly automatic once we have the respirations set, but I like to have another pair of eyes in case something goes wrong. And I'd appreciate it if Masaki had her hands free to help me."

He glanced past her - toward Juushirou? - then carefully put his comic down, and uncurled from the corner.

"Just breathe normally, and try to relax," Retsu advised, fitting the mask over Isane's face. "Let me count. Twenty, nineteen…."

It took all the way to two, but Isane finally slumped. "Nobody move!" Isshin snapped. "I've got a theory-"

Silvery tentacles suddenly writhed, desperate to escape. "Easy," Isshin gritted out, clinging. "Easy! You know us, you know we're trying to help. Relax. We're here. Nobody's going to hurt you."

A few more breaths, and furred muscle finally went limp.

"The _hell_ was that?" Petrillo swore, shaken.

"There's a _lot_ of nerves in the tentacles," Isshin said bluntly.

Masaki's eyes widened. "Enough to make a secondary neural center?"

"They've got a mind of their own?" Yoruichi's brow went up. "That would explain a few things… and here I thought Kisuke was just finding excuses to goose me."

After a split-second of shock, the blond winked. "I need an excuse?"

"You mean, it's not just louder survival instincts," Juushirou said uneasily.

"Yes and no," Isshin shrugged. "I honestly think Shunsui was right about that. I'm just not sure they're all _human_."

"Stop that," Masaki said firmly, ready to hand out supplies from Retsu's kit. "You're all human until proven otherwise."

Isshin grinned at her, all black hair and puppy-dog eyes. "Does that mean I get snuggles?"

"Get a room!" came the mass groan.

_For biologists, you know more about human psychology than you let on_, Retsu thought, hiding a grin. Braced herself, and approached her patient.

"My god," she breathed, finally able to see the extent of the damage. From diamond-shaped, flattened tip to the cylindrical cross-section blending into Isane's lower back about an inch right of her spine, the tentacle had had near half its skin and probably a quarter of its muscle torn away. The bare flesh still oozed serum, though most of the bleeding seemed to have stopped. It was all too easy to imagine the massive fangs and grinding molars that had to have done this kind of damage. "A Hollow did this?"

"We think its saliva was slowing down the healing," Yoruichi stated. "Irrigating and cleaning it seemed to help."

"Must have stung like the very devil, though," Retsu murmured. Which explained the massive dogpile. "Let me do another wash, now that she's still. You did very well, all of you."

"Thank Hanatarou," Masaki said warmly. "He walked us through it."

"I-it was nothing…."

"He gets seen next," Yoruichi said firmly. "Don't even think about arguing. I don't care if it was just a graze. You were _shot_."

_Hughes?_ Retsu wanted to ask. But that could wait. "All right, I need to suture this…." She hesitated, nonplussed. "These muscles-"

"It's a muscular hydrostat," Yoruichi informed her. "Very like a tongue. Or a squid tentacle. There are two sets of muscles, crisscrossing. One set goes lengthwise, the other forms bands as diameters." Her voice turned wry. "We did think about asking for a veterinarian."

"I can see what's involved, now," Retsu reassured her, considering the problem. "I need to suture in stages."

From there it was a relatively simple, if tedious, matter of aligning the remaining muscles layer by layer, stitching each in turn with bio-absorbing filaments. Finally the skin was back in place, and the still-raw wound remaining wrapped first in artificial skin, then a coil of pressure bandages.

Satisfied, the doctor stepped back and straightened, willing away an incipient backache. "Everyone hold on again. I'm going to switch off the ether."

A few seconds - far too fast, from what Retsu knew of ether - and Isane was blinking blearily at them. "Is that it?"

"Don't move it more than you have to," Retsu informed her. "We should really rig up some kind of sling-"

"That, I can handle," Kisuke said, relieved.

"Hold up a minute," Petrillo said, dragging his trunk forward. "I brought presents."

Even considering all the things Retsu had half-expected a Special Forces sergeant to bring through security, the contents still surprised her. "Swords?" _When I get you alone, Sergeant, we're going to have words about providing sharp instruments to people who may be suicidal._

"We don't need those," Kisuke said uneasily.

"No?" Petrillo eyed Juushirou, who was looking at sheathed steel with definite longing.

"It… probably isn't a good idea," the white-haired man said reluctantly. "We might be… tempted to experiment."

"In case none of you noticed, the rest of camp is pretty far _that_ way." Petrillo jerked a thumb back toward the landing area. "I've seen Quincys work. Pretty sure nothing you set off can reach that far."

_Quincys?_ Retsu listened intently. _They're Quincys?_

No, or they'd have said so; the psychokinetic specialists had a few odd medical requirements. But… was Petrillo implying they could manipulate psychokinetic energy? If so - primitive as they might seem in the interstellar age, those swords would be _very_ effective.

"Sure you don't want one?" Petrillo went on. "Even for Toushirou?"

Who was staring at lethal steel like a kid outside a candy store. Only hungrier. Retsu looked over them all, suddenly uneasy.

_That's not a suicidal look. I'm not sure what it is, but it's _not_ suicidal._

"No," Isshin said levelly, with a glance at Kisuke's paling face. "The rest of you can do what you want. Kisuke and I are going after this bastard the way we know how. Scientifically."

"He's not really asking for your sake, Isshin."

Retsu started at the unexpected voice - and started again, seeing the others' lack of reaction. _How did they know he was there?_

"Major Shunsui Kyouraku, Doctor." The brunet gave her an old-fashioned bow, hand on his swords. Brown-furred tentacles were wrapped around his waist, just above the hilts. "And may I say that you are a ray of sunshine on this dark and dreary day-"

"This isn't the cafeteria, and she's probably not looking for a date," Juushirou said, amused. "And I'm not looking for one, either!" he added hastily.

"Aww." Shunsui dropped her a wink. "Don't take it personally, ma'am, he's just shy-"

"Shunsui!"

"Major," the sergeant said dryly. "Sensors up?"

"And running," Shunsui nodded, suddenly all business. "I've tried pulsing to knock 'em out. So far, they're holding up to specs. We should still post watches, but two people can handle it now." He looked over the assembled survivors. "I know everyone's got really bad memories. But there's nothing wrong with wanting to be able to protect yourselves. And Sergeant Petrillo isn't even asking for that. He's asking, because Yumichika Ayasegawa and Ikkaku Madarame - two of the guys who walked _into_ that nightmare to help us - are out cold on cots right now. _Helpless_."

Hanatarou went white. Yoruichi gripped his shoulder, kneading knotted muscles.

"The general won't give us stunners," Shunsui went on, more quietly. "I asked. After Yoruichi's little shuttle grab-"

"What?" Retsu burst out.

"They were going to leave us there," Yoruichi said levelly. "Everyone visibly affected by the vaccine."

_A vaccine. Did this._ And - _leave_ them? No wonder these people were paranoid. "So there are non-visible effects?"

"We'll get to that," Shunsui promised. "Point is, all our surviving security guys _and_ the new security knows that, unless we're incapacitated or they can saturate the area with bullets, they're _not_ going to hit us. And I can guarantee you, the thought of people with that kind of force multiplier armed with _anything_ is making poor Rollefson curl up in a corner and whimper."

"He knows about the ether," Retsu felt obligated to mention.

"Good. Maybe it'll keep him civil." Shunsui's grin had a wry edge. "We got these past the general, officially, by having the sergeant claim them as personal effects, exercise equipment."

"The exercise being iaido?" Juushirou murmured.

"Don't knock it," Shunsui shrugged. "Unofficially, Yama-jii probably knows exactly what we've got. But as long as we don't have any distance weapons - don't even start, Kisuke, we've got no idea what our range is, so he doesn't _know_, officially, that we do - as long as we make it clear that all we want to do is protect ourselves, then we should be good." He swept them with another look. "If everything goes right, we won't need them. But weird as it sounds, the best way _not_ to need them is to make sure people know we have them. To make sure they think human, not monster. If they're thinking about pointy sharp things, they're not thinking about the Thing Under the Bed with claws, tentacles, and whatever else their nightmares dream up."

"Claws?" Retsu put in, dreading the answer.

"Yes, ma'am," Shunsui said matter-of-factly. "I take it you haven't had time to do a general exam yet?"

"She just got done with me," Isane said shyly.

"Okay. We'll keep this quick, I know Hanatarou's up next." Turning an empty hand palm-up, he clenched his fingertips.

Claws slid out, white as bone.

"And that," Isshin said dryly, "is why Masaki was wearing the sterile gloves. We can't keep from going through them. At least, not yet."

"They're sharp," Kisuke warned, as Retsu reached out dazedly for a better look. "And they have variable hardness. The tips can cut through steel; the anchoring point, though, is only about bone-hard. So they're actually practical to use, without tearing your fingers to shreds. Very effective design."

Which was the sort of tone she'd heard from a beginning pathologist confronted with a spectacularly ugly cause of death. Shortly before he'd lost his lunch. "I see," Retsu said briskly, turning Shunsui's hand around to see exactly how the claws retracted under his nails. Stomped, again, on any impulse to panic, and considered their situation in light of this new - unsettling - information. "The major's right. People may not like the idea of your being armed with oversized kitchen knives-"

Juushirou made a strangled noise.

"-But they'd much rather think about that than being clawed to death. Humans have a very visceral reaction to the thought of being preyed upon." Retsu gave them her own long look. "Remember, the goal is for _no one_ to get hurt. If they're afraid of you and think you're unarmed… well, that's not a good situation." She met Shunsui's gaze. "Is there one for me?"

He blinked. "Ah…."

"I'm your _doctor_, Major. I'm staying here." _It's the best way to keep everyone safe._ The kind of plague-hysteria that led to mobs with torches probably wouldn't stand a chance of taking hold here; not with a sane man in charge and enough security to clamp down on incipient troublemakers. But if anything like that should even think about getting started - the best way to head it off was to have someone indisputably human in authority here.

And on a more personal note… the way Captain Rollefson had tried to steamroller her away from patients who _needed_ her raised all her hackles.

_These people have been betrayed enough._

"Welcome aboard, Doc," Shunsui stated, after an odd silence of glances. "Okay, 'Shirou, give me a hand. I know it's been a while since you did formal kendo, but you're the best second opinion I've got right now…."

That quickly, her patients separated; Juushirou and an eager Toushirou joining Shunsui, another crowd around Isane, and Yoruichi dragging over chairs and another collapsible partition to create makeshift privacy for Retsu and her next patient. "Do you want me to stay?" the purple-haired woman asked Hanatarou.

"I-I'll be alright," the young paramedic stuttered. Dared a glance at Retsu. "You're… just looking at the graze, right?"

_Say yes_, Yoruichi's serious gaze told her.

"For now," Retsu nodded. "But given the extent of what's happened, I'd like to do a full exam on someone."

"Me, then," Yoruichi said easily. "Or Juushirou, later. He needs a good look-over, anyway."

"Why?" Retsu asked, already laying out her kit in the light of the sterile field projector atop a small folding table.

"Up until four days ago, he had Strickland's." With a wink, Yoruichi left her gaping.

"It's true," Hanatarou nodded shyly. "He was on full oxygen support. With a red medic alert."

As in, might keel over any day, not your fault if he doesn't resuscitate. The same man who now looked perfectly healthy. Except for the tentacles. Retsu shook her head, trying to jar loose bewilderment. Vaccines didn't _do_ this. "So you were hit? All right, if you could just open your top…."

"Don't touch anything!" Yoruichi yanked the curtain open again, breathing fast. "I forgot. I forgot to tell you. We're venomous."

Retsu froze.

"We, ah… don't exactly know how toxic, yet," Yoruichi said gamely. "Based on other evidence, though, we have to assume it's potentially lethal…."

"And this just _slipped your mind?_" Retsu demanded, not caring if the whole shelter rang with her voice. "Claws, tentacles, venom - have any of you heard of _overkill?_"

"Told you," Kisuke's voice floated across the room, oddly cheerful.

"Yeah," Isshin sighed. "Have to say, it's looking more and more plausible."

"What is?" Retsu asked at a more normal volume, looking at Yoruichi.

"It's a theory," the ecologist said evasively. "We need to gather more evidence."

She knew that tone. Researchers who'd looked at their data and reached a conclusion they really didn't like. Better to let them have time to come to terms with it. For now. "Let me guess. Fangs?"

"No, thank goodness," Yoruichi chuckled. One of her tentacles lifted, turned over, unrolled the diamond-shaped, flattened tip-

Retsu let out a low whistle at the bristling, bone-white barbs spread across a hand-span of flesh. _Almost fangs, at that._

"Venom glands at the bases, all the way up to here." Yoruichi pointed to the bare skin where the barbs ended. "Those are under the skin. On top of the skin, all the way down here-" she sketched a path along the furless line of the tentacle's underside, "-there appear to be nematocysts, as well. We're not sure what's in them, yet. They don't seem to go off just from skin contact, but…." A fluid shrug.

"I stand corrected," Retsu said dryly. "This is beyond overkill." Claws. Tentacles. Nematocysts. Human DNA didn't _do_ this.

_What in space happened here?_

Patient. Focus on the patient. "Is there anything else? Anything at all?"

For a moment, Yoruichi looked uncertain. Braced herself, and stepped close enough to whisper in Retsu's ear. "Toushirou's parents are dead. It was… very ugly. Ask Shunsui. Or Juushirou. _Not_ him."

Which answered one question, and raised a host of others. What did people who'd gone through _this_ consider _very ugly?_ "Thank you."

Giving her a wry smile, Yoruichi stepped out and closed the curtain.

After that, cleaning Hanatarou's graze was almost anticlimactic. Even if it did look far too healed. "You say this happened less than twelve hours ago?"

"I - think so." Hanatarou wouldn't look up. "We… kind of lost track of time…."

"That happens, once your adrenaline gets going," Retsu nodded, finishing up. "Hughes shot you?"

It wasn't quite a whimper, but the welling tears made it even worse. "I-" He scrubbed his eyes. "We didn't _do_ anything to him!"

"It's all right," Retsu said gently. "To wonder why you're alive, and they're not. I know it sounds stupid, but - sometimes, things just happen. And it's not your fault, and it's not theirs. The universe is full of chance. All we can do is our best with what we're given."

He swallowed, and retied his top. "You're very kind, Doctor."

Not convinced. That was all right. They had time.

Escorting him to the curtain, Retsu poked her head out. "Next?"

Next wasn't Juushirou, but a scowling Toushirou, clinging to his new short sword and not admitting to anything worse than a few scrapes. Which even seemed to be true; again, like Hanatarou's wound, healed as if they'd happened days ago. Then Isshin-

"So. Kaien holding up okay?"

-Kisuke-

"I'm _fine_."

-Yoruichi-

"We really need to find him a physics problem to work on. Beyond rerunning the calculations on how we blew the shelter door down…."

-Shunsui-

"Ah, a lovely lady putting her hands all over me. How lucky can I- ow!"

-Masaki, shedding a few long strands of blonde-

"I don't think they need to be as worried about the nematocysts as they think. We all slept together on the shuttle and nothing happened… yes, I said _slept_. We didn't do anything else, though if you could help me prove to Isshin it's okay if we do…."

-Tessai Tsukabishi-

"Ma'am," was pretty much the giant physicist's only comment. And, on her cleaning various scrapes and gashes, "Isane and I were in the same fight."

-Quincy Ryuuken Ishida, who, oddly like Masaki, seemed to be losing black hair in favor of fine white-

"I'm still composing my report."

-And finally, Isshin and Shunsui dragged in her last patient for the day. "Relax," Shunsui smiled at the white-haired data analyst. "Everything's going to be fine."

"You don't know that," Juushirou muttered.

"'Shirou…." Shunsui stepped close, almost forehead to forehead with his friend, and-

Retsu stumbled back, as brown strands rose and interwove with snowy white.

Isshin caught her before she hit the curtain. "It's not hair," the geneticist said bluntly. "Like the fur isn't really fur. It's all electromagnetically sensitive tendrils."

Retsu drew in a sharp breath. "Ryuuken and Masaki-"

"Took longer to start losing their hair than we did," Isshin said matter-of-factly. "So far, though, that seems to be the only effect from a successful vaccination."

"Anyone tell the general yet?" Shunsui murmured, as Juushirou finally relaxed.

Isshin smirked. "I sent him a memo."

"I _like_ you." Shunsui grinned, tendrils unweaving from white as he stepped back. "Okay now?"

"Just a little scared," Juushirou admitted. "Of hoping too much."

Having now had time to review his records, Retsu could understand why. _Six months. Or less._ Strickland's just didn't _go_ into remission. Not in its terminal stage. "Biopsy sample first. Let me find your brachial hearts…." She moved her scanner over each side of his ribcage, silently marveling at the new organs revealed. Just like the others affected, the original heart was still present, if in surprisingly good shape. But its pulse was slower, not as forceful. It didn't have to be; attached to the major vessels running through each lung was a smaller, new heart, providing the pressure to the lungs the main heart normally had to give the whole body.

_Three hearts._ Alien as it was, she couldn't help but be struck by the pure elegance of the design. "Hold still. You'll feel a little pinch-"

The tentacles flinched, but never came near her. Sample in hand, Retsu slotted it into her analyzer and let it run. Turning back to her patient, she traced where records said thick scars should be. "You know, except for Masaki and Ryuuken, I haven't found scars on any of you."

"Chrysalis," Isshin said briefly. "There was a lot of… tissue reconstruction. Even after we stomped on the genes for tissue lysis."

Retsu didn't take her eyes off Juushirou. "You made this vaccine?"

"Me, Masaki, Kisuke; Ryuuken ended up helping near the end of it. Given we had about ten days before everything went to hell, I really can't complain. At least it _worked_."

Now she did glare at him. "You used an untested vaccine?"

"They tested everything they could in the time we had," Shunsui objected. "It was that, or let the general nuke us all."

Juushirou shuddered. "Madsen's Hollow spread all over the planet, god…."

"It showed up first as spores," Isshin told her. "We weren't able to get it back into spores in the time we had, but if it _was_ able to pull that trick again-" he grimaced.

Retsu swallowed dryly. Attempted nuclear sterilization. Even in the height of the Catarrh, she'd never heard anyone seriously suggest that option.

The analyzer chimed, and she put her instruments down to read the results. Reread them, slowly.

"Doctor?" Juushirou said anxiously.

Retsu beckoned Isshin over. "You're more familiar with modified biochemistry. Would you mind checking my results?"

"Not at all…." Isshin checked over the display, dark brows bouncing up. "'Shirou, you lucky dog!"

"So that's good?" Shunsui ventured.

"Technically speaking, you still have Strickland's," Retsu told her patient levelly. "In that it's defined by antibody response to your own lung tissue, and you still _have_ antibodies to human lung tissue. But the lung tissue you currently have has a different genetic profile than your records, and it shows no trace of inflammation, tissue destruction, or indeed any proteins that the destructive antibodies could latch onto." She spread empty hands. "I think you're going to live."

Shunsui steadied his friend as Juushirou swayed. "So," the major teased, "what are you planning to do with the rest of your life?"

"I… don't _know_."

Retsu smiled, heartened. That at least was a familiar reaction, if one she'd encountered all too rarely. It was hard to go from accepting imminent death back to the realm of the living. "Would you let me do a full exam? Now that I've seen all of you, I should have a better idea of what's-" _normal_ was not the word to use here, no, "-not out of the ordinary."

From the trio of looks she got, that phrase hadn't gone over much better. But Juushirou braced himself. "All right."

"So, we should-" Isshin started.

"Stay," Juushirou asked. "Please?"

"Okay," Shunsui agreed. "But you get to convince Snowball the scary doctor's not eating you."

_"I heard that!"_ came Toushirou's growl.

"Not polite to eavesdrop, kid," Shunsui grinned. "Relax. This won't take long."

_"Who says I'm not relaxed?"_

"We can feel you vibrating from in here," Isshin stated. "Heck, _Ryuuken_ can probably feel it."

_"Ryuuken can go-"_ The rest was, fortunately, muffled.

"Thanks, love," Isshin smiled.

"Just don't dawdle," Masaki called back through the screen. "If you want to show Dr. Unohana the videos I think you do, we want to do it _before_ dinner."

Almost as one, the three men swallowed dryly. "Did I mention you have a very smart wife, Dr. Shiba?" Shunsui said wryly.

"Videos of infected people?" Retsu asked neutrally. "No one's mentioned what sort of facility you were in. Or how the infection initially manifested, beyond spores." _Monsters. And a vaccine that-_ There was a picture forming here, and she didn't like it. At all. _Impossible. Nobody could… infections don't…._

"Yes," Isshin said flatly. "Videos of… infected mammals. And other events. As to how it got in-" his fists clenched, claws pricking skin. "Project Tatterdemalion had a level 4 containment lab. Because of what we were doing. _And it still got out_."

"We've got ideas on how," Shunsui put in, a little more calm. "They'll make more sense when you see the recordings from the physics lab."

"The fight Isane and Tessai were in?" Retsu guessed.

"Them, us, Ryuuken, the sergeant and his men…." Shunsui winced. "He lost good people. Soon as the general says we can have some downtime, I'm buying him a round. Or ten."

"As your doctor, I can't say I approve," Retsu said candidly. "As someone who's been in more than one disaster, though - you're adults. But given the minor fact that you are venomous, make sure someone's sober enough to keep you away from innocent bystanders."

He saluted. "Yes, ma'am."

Yes, ma'am, and he'd make sure it happened, if he had to stay sober himself. Retsu smiled, turning back to her exam. Shunsui might flirt and tease, but underneath the charm, he was reliable as a quasar. "Let me know if anything I do is uncomfortable, Juushirou." Carefully, she touched a gloved finger to the base of his upper right tentacle.

"Tickles a little," Juushirou admitted, trying not to shiver. "It's all right."

_Muscular arrangement looks almost normal on the surface, but it's definitely been altered,_ Retsu noted, pressing her scanner against the tentacle base for better readings. The usual fan of muscle across the shoulders wove right into the new spiderweb of muscles rooting the upper tentacles below the shoulder blades, merging and mingling with them to protect the nerves leading into the spinal cord. About a hand's width down, the second pair of tentacles was equally well rooted into the lower back, in a way that- Retsu frowned. "Have you noticed any lower back pain?"

"No," Juushirou admitted. "That's odd?"

Several pounds of muscle where it shouldn't be, and it didn't hurt? Didn't even seem to throw them off stride? Yes. Very odd. "Humans are a bipedal modification on a quadripedal body form," Retsu stated. "Unless someone went crazy enough to do major genetic engineering, we're stuck with back muscles that still expect gravity to be about ninety degrees off." She traced the fine network on her scanner. "These modified muscles seem to know which way gravity works. It's not perfect, but it explains how you can maintain an upright posture."

"Wonder what it took its cue from to pull that off?" Isshin muttered.

Retsu measured around the base of each tentacle, noticing how the white tendril-fur made dusty trails that intersected as a barely visible X across the spine. "Doesn't seem to be much difference between the upper and lower pairs. Each are about two inches thick, and-" She measured, twice. "Nearly six feet long, including the tip. Almost as long as you're tall. That seems to be consistent with all of you, except Toushirou. His are several inches short."

"Kid's twelve," Shunsui pointed out. "They'll catch up."

Retsu eyed him.

"What? What'd I say?"

"Nothing," Retsu shrugged, deliberately nonchalant. "I'm just used to people being a bit less resilient in the face of disaster."

Silence, punctuated by shared, resigned glances. Juushirou sighed. "Did you know your electromagnetic aura shifts when you lie?"

_It's not hair._ Retsu blinked, speechless. _They can_ sense _deception?_

"Doc. We _know_ our heads have been messed with," Shunsui said matter-of-factly. "We should be panicking. We're not. We should be catatonic. We're not. There's no way in space we should be reacting like any of this is within a solar system of normal." His shoulders fell. "But we are. Toushirou's our - kid. Everyone here is family."

_What were you going to say instead of kid?_ Retsu wondered. "Don't underestimate yourselves; humans are fairly adaptable. But you're right. Such a lack of reaction isn't normal. Though the fact that you all know it's not normal is a good sign."

Another telling silence. Retsu narrowed her eyes. "I don't like being talked about behind my back, gentlemen."

A pair of blushes, and Shunsui grinned. "Lovely _and_ smart."

Retsu's jaw dropped. "You- but-" _Pulses. He said he_ pulsed _at the sensors._ "You can communicate? Electromagnetically?" She blinked. "That's why you're using striker gear. You need the EM-hardening!"

Shunsui gave her a thumbs-up. "Got it in one."

"We can sense Ryuuken all the way out on patrol," Juushirou added. "He and Masaki can't sense us very well yet, and definitely not very far, but they _can_ sense us."

"They don't have that many tendrils yet," Isshin pointed out. "Could be that when they all grow in, their range will get better. Or it could be you need the full set of tentacles for reliable sensing. No way to know yet."

"You sure that's all that's growing in?" Shunsui asked, uneasy.

Isshin nodded. "I may not be in her league as a doc, but genetics, I know. Except for bits in the scalp and brain, and some weirdness in the immune system, Ryuuken and Masaki don't have the kinds of proteins and RNAs active that we do." He grimaced. "That's probably how the first mouse tests slipped by us. The Hollow virus only seems to latch onto about twenty percent of the population, and when you grab twenty random mice-" He shrugged. "One in a hundred chance of not getting a vulnerable mouse. And, obviously…." He spread an empty hand. "Damn it, I told Yamamoto we needed more time!"

"But there wasn't any more time," Juushirou reminded him. "We're alive. We weren't eaten. We didn't-" He shuddered. "God, I can still see Cournoyer's face."

"One of Sarge's strikers," Shunsui filled in for Retsu, distinctly pale. "I think the lab recordings caught most of what happened."

Retsu arched a brow. "You don't have to watch it with me."

"Somebody's got to walk you through what happened," was his grim reply. "And hold your hair back."

As in, _when_ she threw up. Not _if_. Retsu swallowed hard. "It's that bad?"

Another triad of exchanged glances. "However bad you think it is," Isshin said tersely, "it's worse."

----

Letting the splash of water run down her face, Nanao Ise gripped the sink, grimly determined not to vomit. Again.

_Whoever put bacon on the breakfast menu needs to die._

The recordings they'd seen had been simple audiovisuals, no olfactory component. But you didn't need scent-surround to imagine the stench of bodies burning, as Hollows were crisped alive.

_Nothing ought to die like that. _

An impractical reaction; she knew that. A contagion of this magnitude had to be contained. Whatever it took. That the active vector of the contagion was still a living, intelligent creature, was distinctly secondary.

Still. Burning alive… she shuddered.

Letting out a long breath, Nanao wiped her face and glasses. Settled lenses back on her face to keep the world at bay once more. Nodded at the mirror, and exited the bathroom.

She was, after all, a professional.

Which was why almost getting run over by a screaming security guard as she stepped into the sunlight barely made her narrow her eyes. Not professional, at all-

_Um_, common sense pointed out, _what's he running away from?_

Nanao stood still, eyes flicking about for any sign of armed threats, blatant Hollows, or the rippling in the air that might indicate a camouflaged monster. Nothing. And not a trace of the scent the strikers had reported on encountering the infectees-

_"Squeak?"_

"Catch it!"

A kid's voice, determined and no little frustrated. Nanao pounced on the moving pink fluff without thinking twice.

Felt something furry _stroke_ along her cupped palms, and broke into a cold sweat, fighting not to throw it as hard as she could. "What the-"

Beady black eyes stared back at her, whiskers twitching, as the mouse explored the cage of her hands. The pink, _tentacled_ mouse.

_One of Dr. Shiba's lab specimens. Oh, joy. _

If the briefing was wrong, and it really _was_ infectious, she was going to kill somebody.

"Um. Not good. Just… don't startle it, okay?"

Nanao jerked her gaze up, where a snowy-haired youngster crouched on top of the washroom trailer… and why did he have a sword slung across his back?

More to the point, how had he gotten up there in the first place?

Wait. Scrubs. White hair. Those weren't furry belts around his waist, but-

Green eyes flinched as she paled, but he swallowed, and straightened his shoulders. "They're really pretty tame. Just hang on."

He dropped off the roof, and she didn't have time to yelp-

-Landed, agile as a leopard. Like he'd just stepped off a curb. Warily walked over to her, holding open a clear impact-plastic carrying cage.

Gingerly, Nanao rearranged her fingers so the mouse's only way out was into the trap. It squeaked at her again, disappointed, then wriggled inside.

Quick fingers slammed the door shut, then not only latched it, but plastered the latch down with duct tape. "Why-" Nanao started, and cut herself off, thinking. "The tentacles. They can squeeze out the ventilation holes?"

"And lift the latch," he admitted reluctantly. "Yeah."

Nanao let out a breath. "You're Toushirou Hitsugaya, aren't you?"

He took a step back. "How did you know?"

"General Yamamoto told us about the - affected survivors." _Though he didn't tell us you could do… what I just saw. What else hasn't he told us?_ Nerving herself, she held out a hand. "I'm Nanao Ise."

Hesitantly, like he didn't dare believe it, Toushirou reached back-

_"There!"_

More security. This time, not screaming. Nanao frowned, seeing the situation poised to plummet downhill. "Is something wrong, gentlemen?"

"Ma'am." One of the higher-ranked noncoms beckoned to her. No guns were drawn, yet; but from the twitchy hands, it was just a matter of time. "If you could just step away…."

"I didn't _do_ anything!" Toushirou protested.

_"Shut up." _

"That's rude, Sergeant. I was just helping Toushirou catch Dr. Shiba's mouse." Nanao looked back at the youngster. Who'd gone still, in a way she'd never seen in a child. So very, very still. "Are there any more loose?"

Minutely, Toushirou shook his head, never shifting his focus from the man in the lead. "This is the last one."

_A cat facing a pack of dogs_, Nanao realized. _No… more like a lion_. A housecat would be hissing, making itself look bigger, anything to warn off the impending threat. Toushirou… was _still_.

And security was murmuring tensely into communicators. Not good.

"So you're planning to take it back?" Nanao made herself smile slightly. "I suspect you'll be using a lot of duct tape."

Almost enough. She saw his gaze flick toward her, _wanting_ to relax, to believe everything would be okay-

"There you are!" A relaxed, jovial voice; its owner landed beside her as lightly as Toushirou had, scooping up youngster and cage in one smooth grab. "Caught our Houdini, did you?" He _grinned_ at her. "And you found a lovely lady to assist! Just what every magic act needs."

…_He is so dead_. "I didn't know you had masochistic tendencies, Major Kyouraku," Nanao said evenly.

"Huh?"

_Good_ clueless look. She'd rate it a seven, at least. But not enough to fool her. "Because obviously, you're asking for _pain_."

"Eep?" He backed up a step, but gave her a game smile, while Toushirou eyed them both as if the adults had gone crazy. "You wouldn't hurt a guy and his innocent mouse, would you?"

And that quickly, the tension singing in the air fell apart.

_Well, mostly_, Nanao amended silently, surreptitiously watching soldiers shuffle back a little. Nobody was exactly relaxed, here. But any man with a kid and a mouse who was backing off from an obviously unarmed woman couldn't be that much of a threat.

_You did that on purpose_, Nanao realized, nudging her glasses up. _I think I want to know more about you, Major. You're_ much _smarter than you look._

"You agreed to keep your people in their own camp, Major."

Nanano had an instant to glimpse an irritated general, before she reflexively caught clear plastic heading for the ground. Because Major Kyouraku suddenly had his hands full.

"Let me go. Let me _go!_ They're dead, they're all _dead_, and it's _his_ fault-!"

Toushirou was clawing the air, snow-white writhing against brown as the major had to resort to more than just arms to hold him. "Easy," Kyouraku said firmly, never giving ground. "Easy, Toushirou, calm down…."

"He killed my parents!"

"The Hollows-"

"_He_ brought the damn meteor in! It's _his_ base, nothing gets in without _his_ say - let me _go!_"

Nanao shivered suddenly, and tried not to let her jaw drop as white suddenly drifted through the air around them. _Is that snow?_

"No," Kyouraku said bluntly. "I'm not going to let you. He didn't know, Toushirou. _Nobody_ could have known. You've been listening to Kisuke and Isshin, right? _They_ had to figure it out the hard way, because this virus isn't like anything _anybody_ has ever seen before." He stroked white tendrils, holding the struggling kid close. "I know you're mad. Hell, _I'm_ ticked. But you're not going to do this. Shhh…."

Toushirou's fingers curled, bone-white claws starkly visible; then, finally, went limp. A breeze blew in, lifting the chill. "…I want to go _home_."

"I know," Kyouraku said quietly. "I know." Touched the side of an elfin face, so green eyes fixed on him. "Cover your ears for a few minutes, okay?"

Toushirou blinked, but did, standing still when the major put him down. Even when Kyouraku's face went suddenly serious, gray eyes grave.

Carefully, Nanao moved to put herself between the youngster and security. A good administrative assistant paid as much attention to power struggles as logistics… and this looked like it was about to get ugly.

_And I don't think the general sees it coming. _

Which had all kinds of unpleasant implications for the people depending on his leadership. Being able to administer a research base - or a town, or a planet - wasn't the same as being able to deal with a disaster. She knew that, from way too much experience.

_I need to talk to Retsu. Soon. _

"If you can't control your people better-" Yamamoto began.

"With all _due_ respect, sir, you can circular-file that right now," Kyouraku said grimly, voice low. "_You_ didn't wake up to see what was left of your _mother_ eaten by a Hollow. A Hollow that tries to grab you, and _change_ you - and when that doesn't work, it tries to _eat_ you. _When it knows you're its son_."

Clutching Toushirou's shoulder, Nanao swallowed bile.

"Toushirou's got every damn _right_ to be pissed as hell at _somebody_. And last time I checked, sir, having those stars on your shoulders means the buck stops with _you_." The major held the general's gaze a tense second longer, then glanced at twitchy soldiers. "We'll keep an eye on him. But to be honest, General? I think you're worried about the wrong survivor. Dr. Urahara's just started to figure out how mad _he_ is… and once PSWAT finds out what happened to Ryuuken, they're going to want the project's heads on a platter."

Yamamoto's eyes narrowed, but he obviously reined in his temper. "And just what did happen to Quincy Ishida, Major?"

Brown brows bounced up. "You didn't read Dr. Shiba's memo?"

Yamamoto's gesture included the whole camp. "We've been busy."

"Better get unbusy," Kyouraku said grimly. "If people start figuring it out on their own - and they will, soon - you're going to have a riot on your hands."

"Why?" Nanao spoke up. "What's wrong?"

Kyouraku regarded her openly. "What'd they tell you about Madsen's Hollow?"

"A previously-unknown transformative retrovirus, carried in the saliva of an infected mammal prior to transformation and-" Nanao hesitated "-in glands in the tentacles afterward. It only fully affects about twenty percent of its victims to date. The rest die, very messily, from what is effectively metastatic cancer. It's… theorized… that the Hollows can identify who to target, and prefer to kill and eat the others." Which seemed _very_ odd for a disease. But what about this situation was normal?

"Right, as far as it goes," Kyouraku nodded. Looked over the gathered crowd of uniforms, plus a few stray civilians daring to satisfy their curiosity. "Here's what you don't know, partly because our docs are still figuring it out. Dr. Unohana's helping. Good news? The vaccine _does_ work. Nobody who's been dosed is infectious, and nobody who's been dosed can catch the virus. Even Ayasegawa, the striker who got hit by a Hollow - we pumped him full of it, and he's going to be fine. Shinigami like us, but fine."

"And the bad news?" Nanao said dryly. _Tentacles, and you consider that fine?_ Then again, compared to turning into something that ate people… well.

"It's not really a vaccine."

"Explain," Yamamoto ordered.

"Isshin sent you the details-" The major held up a hand before Yamamoto could snarl. "Let me break it down the way Urahara and the Shibas did for me. Typical vaccine, you get a weakened virus so your body can make antibodies, latch onto the real thing, and mess it up good. This thing? Moves _too damn fast_. By the time you _could_ make antibodies, you're already eating people."

Nanao shivered. "Then how does it work?" For it did, it had to, or- _Focus. Breathe_.

"The Hollow virus is fast, but it's picky," Kyouraku told her. "It needs specific sites in your DNA to hook in and do its dirty work. If it gets into everything? You get a Hollow. If it just gets a few? Messy, ugly death. The only way to _stop_ it is to block _everything_ in the DNA it could _ever_ latch into. Then, the little virus-DNA-munching things in your cells can actually grab it and do _their_ thing."

From the frowns on those listening, Nanao knew they didn't get it. She wished _she_ didn't. Unfortunately, genetic surgery was one of the things post-disaster reconstruction might entail, depending on the disaster, and she understood all too well. "You're talking about genetically engineering those sites out of the genome."

"Not out," Kyouraku stated. "Stuff them full of something harmless, instead. Mostly harmless," he amended, voice wry. "The docs were _trying_ for a regular vaccine - a weakened virus. Well, they got one."

Nanao took a few more seconds to think that through, and felt her eyes widen. "Everyone who's vaccinated has this viral DNA."

"That we do," Kyouraku said grimly. Looked back at the general. "Long story short? Masaki and Quincy Ishida are losing their hair. What's growing out…." He lifted a hand, and brown strands moved against the wind, curling around his fingers. "Dr. Unohana's pretty sure that's the only effect, but she's got to check _every_ survivor's DNA. Which is going to take time, even with everybody who can helping her scan the samples. Personally, compared to ending up a Hollow, I've got no complaints. But you've got a whole bunch of people here who think they got away normal. Odds are, they _didn't_."

Including the general himself, Nanao realized, as those close enough to hear started an uneasy muttering. _Oh, this is not going to be good_.

"Orders or no orders, sir, I'd stick around to help out - but I kind of think it'd be counterproductive." Kyouraku shrugged. "I'd say you've got a mess on your hands, sir."

_Now he gets it_, Nanao thought wryly, as Yamamoto stiffened, and tapped his communicator. "Captain Rollefson," the general said grimly, "we have a situation. I need to speak with you directly." Hearing a surprised, _"Yes, sir,"_ he tapped it off again, and looked up at Kyouraku. "Major. Get your people out of here, and _keep_ them out."

"Yes, sir." Kyouraku hesitated, just a breath longer. "Sir… I'm sorry."

A gust of wind, and they were gone.

Nanao let herself breathe, gripping panic hard before it could gain any firmer hold. "General," she said, deliberately pitching her voice to carry over the growing hubbub of nervous whispers. "I presume Sergeant Petrillo is handling their security precautions?" Which, hopefully, the least rational part of the crowd would hear as, someone known and human would be protecting them from the shinigami.

_When it's really the other way around_, she thought wryly. _They're fast, yes - but our security is armed with modern weapons. And there's only, what, nine of them? Eleven, if those two strikers survive. To over six hundred of the rest of us. Can't anyone count?_

"Yes, he is, Ms. Ise," Yamamoto agreed. "I have full confidence in the sergeant's ability to contain the situation."

Good. People were looking less wild-eyed now, if not exactly _calm_.

_It'll have to do_, Nanao thought soberly. _But once the general announces the situation to everyone, and it has time to sink in…._

Oh yes. This was going to be one of her worst assignments yet. Bet on it.

_Sedatives, medical personnel, and counselors standing by_, Nanao made notes. _And set up a secure area and guards for suicide watch. This is going to be one hell of a night._

----

"Are you sure you're all right, Nanao?"

Easing into the strikers' partitioned area with a datapad and a fresh cup of soda, Juushirou watched Retsu frown at the EM-hardened communicator. "Things are under control here," the doctor went on, "I could leave for a few hours-"

"Don't go," Juushirou spoke up. And tried to ignore the way her aura shivered with sudden adrenaline. "You weren't in the first panic at the project, Dr. Unohana," the analyst went on, keeping himself calm. "If it's anything like that - I don't think another doctor will help."

"He's right," Nanao said gravely. "This isn't a normal outbreak hysteria. This is - I don't know what to call it. I'm going to be inside the general's security. If you wanted to get involved, you probably wouldn't be, and I do not advise that. From the way people are acting, we're either going to have a lynch mob or a swarm of suicides. Possibly both."

"Suicides?" Retsu bit her lip. "Then I have to help-"

"Please." Setting the datapad down, Juushirou dared to lay a hand on her shoulder. "Don't go. Think of Toushirou. He's lost too many people already."

"I am thinking of him," Retsu said honestly. "But someone has to think about the other children."

"Retsu." Nanao's wince was audible. "There aren't any others."

"Our security requirements were hard on people with children," Juushirou told the pale doctor. "The Hitsugayas were one of only a few families on the base. When the Hollows hit-" He shook his head. "Anyone who couldn't run, didn't make it to the shelter. And from what we saw, if you were outside, and you weren't protected by a chrysalis…."

"We already have a few surviving parents sedated," Nanao confirmed. "Bad enough they couldn't save their children, but to know they're carrying a piece of the monsters that killed them… we're going to lose them, I can feel it. Risking your life won't change that, Retsu. Please. Don't."

"I see," Retsu nodded sadly. "Stay safe, Nanao."

"Have I ever done anything less?" The communicator winked off.

Juushirou picked his 'pad back up as the doctor took a few more readings on the chrysalides; readings she'd already taken hours ago, if he was recalling correctly. He offered the cup. "Ginger ale?"

"Thank you." Cup in hand, Retsu paused before drinking. "But you're all drinking caffeinated colas…."

"You wandered through when we were starting to set up, remember?" Juushirou smiled. "We could tell you didn't want any." _Just like I can feel you're nervous now._

_She is brave_, something not-quite-self purred in his head, feeling Retsu control her fear. _Should be pack_.

_She's not, and she won't be,_ Juushirou told himself firmly. _Get over it._ "Is something wrong with Ayasegawa? Or Ikkaku?"

"No… I suppose I'm just annoyed that I don't have enough information to determine what I should worry about," Retsu admitted, looking over the chrysalides. "According to you, it takes about three days. But from what I can scan of the progression, I'd estimate they won't break out for at least another day."

"We didn't all wake up at once." Kisuke's voice floated through the makeshift doorway. "Isshin beat me up by hours. Sometimes I hate morning people." Walking in, the genius leveled his own measuring look at golden hardness. "Don't forget Ayasegawa had to deal with an active Hollow infection. Breaking that down would take extra time."

"That doesn't explain Ikkaku," Retsu pointed out.

"True…."

"Adrenaline?" Juushirou suggested. "From what we saw with Ayasegawa, that speeds up the virus. Given the circumstances, we were all, um, stressed, when the vaccine hit us-"

"Scared out of our minds," Kisuke said in an aside to Retsu. "Those of us who weren't within inches of being eaten, were thinking of exactly what could go wrong with an _untested_ vaccine." A wry smirk. "How little did we know."

"So, adrenaline," Juushirou nodded. "And Ikkaku," he tried not to hesitate, "ended up injected later, after we already knew we were going to make it out."

"Hmm." Retsu shook her head as Kisuke turned on the motion detectors around the chrysalides, but willingly put her scanner down and followed them into the common area. Tessai and Petrillo were out on watch, but everyone else was here; along with snacks, soda, piles of makeshift cushions, and a monitor set up to play whatever oddity Isshin had dragged up for a movie.

"Need more data?" Kisuke sounded casual, if you couldn't sense the tension prickling around him.

"I hope we won't have any more," Retsu said honestly. "No, it's… this virus bothers me."

"Really." Kisuke looked altogether too smug. "Why, whatever might that be?"

Juushirou sighed. :_Hit him?_: he asked Yoruichi.

Amusement. :_Maybe later._:

:_He'd deserve it,_: came a mingled chorus from most of the rest.

:_Who, me?_: Kisuke protested.

"You _know_ what's bothering me." Retsu eyed them all, not in the least fooled by innocent expressions. "You have a _theory_."

"Yeah, we do," Isshin admitted. "We just hope we're wrong."

"We'll tell you," Masaki assured her. "But at the moment, you're the only second opinion we have. So…."

"If you've reached the same conclusion," Ryuuken finished grimly, "then we'll know how bad it really is."

Retsu frowned. Eyed them all again. And nodded. "It's too perfect."

Kisuke smirked, as three small piles of credits were shoved his direction. "Thank you, thank you...."

"Never bet against Kisuke," Isshin snickered at a grumbling Ryuuken.

"I think we got that," Shunsui admitted ruefully.

"The Hollows are overkill," Retsu went on, as the blond collected his winnings. "Literally. There's no natural predator this lethal. Camouflage, the arsenal of natural weaponry… the virus' infect to kill ratio? I looked over some of Yoruichi's sources. One to five is exactly what you get in nature for an ectothermic, energy-conserving predator to relatively large prey. How would a virus that's never infected Earth-native mammals before do that? If it _is_ a virus; it's acting more like a fern, where the vegetative and reproductive stages look entirely different. Which, again, simply doesn't fit. Especially when you consider that there is _nothing_ else recorded on this planet even remotely like this." She shook her head in disbelief. "It's too bizarre. Too _perfect_. As if it were…."

"Designed?" Kisuke said levelly.

"But that's impossible," Retsu protested. "No human technology could have created this."

"Exactly."

Silence. Juushirou sensed her aura shift with disbelief, amazement, dawning horror….

Blindly, Retsu found a cushion and sat down. "Were there any bottles in with those swords?"

"Unfortunately, no," Shunsui shrugged.

The doctor nodded numbly. "_Not_ human technology."

"Kind of makes you want to find a deep hole and pull it in after you, doesn't it?" Kaien said wryly. "Or blow up somebody _else's_ hole. If you could just figure out who and where."

"You're _sure_."

"We have no evidence for any more plausible theory," Kisuke said heavily. "Believe me, we've looked."

"But that means…."

"The Hollows aren't the _real_ bad guys," Toushirou said bitterly, dropping onto a cushion beside Juushirou. He knuckled a white brow in frustration, off hand clenched. "God damn it, _why?_"

"Language," Juushirou reproved gently, gathering the youngster close. "I don't know. None of us knows."

"Not quite true," Yoruichi said thoughtfully. "Alien psychology would, of course, be alien. But every creature's psychology is shaped by its physiology, and its instincts. And every living being we know of has one baseline response, when it meets another species. _Can I eat it, or will it eat me?_"

"In short?" Kisuke summed up. "Yes, we believe it was deliberate. Yes, we believe it was hostile. And the best course of action we can currently come up with is, keep this quiet and study the hell out of it."

"I understand the _study_ part," Hanatarou ventured, carefully not brushing against Isane's bandaged tentacle as he sat down. "But - shouldn't people _know?_"

"Are you that eager to die?" Ryuuken said bitterly.

Wide-eyed, Hanatarou huddled into Isane's comforting arm.

"I'm guessing tact isn't a high priority at PSWAT," Isshin said, eyes narrowed.

"As if you have room to talk-"

"Enough, both of you," Masaki said firmly. And sighed. "I hate to say it, but I think he's right. He _is_ a Quincy. And PSWAT keeps some of the best historical records of what happened when they first became known to the general public."

"Riots in the streets were just the beginning," Ryuuken said darkly. "There are reasons we tend not to advertise who we are, even today. And we look human."

:_Misery. Anger. Frustration._:

Juushirou winced at the overlapping pulses of other-projections, and deliberately focused on the sense of Toushirou, close enough to touch. :_Cub. Ours. Pack is together. Pack is alive._:

Shunsui's pulses joined his, Yoruichi's a bare breath behind as she realized what they were projecting. The others were almost as quick to follow; Isane and Hanatarou relieved, Isshin and Kisuke more reluctant. Even Masaki and Ryuuken echoed that affirmation, like a whisper on the wind.

"Isshin?" Kaien raised an eyebrow. "Am I missing something?"

"Eh, not much," Isshin shrugged. "Life sucks, people are idiots, we're glad to be alive anyway." He gave them all a thumbs-up. "So, who's up for a movie?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Fic overall is rated for violence, gore, and horror, but I'm adding an extra warning here for disturbing topics. In this case, suicide.

----

Water washes away. Rain, rivers, oceans - all cleanse. And conceal.

Here, it rained. Washing away bits of decaying leaves and branches, the sawdust confetti left when daisy-cutter explosives had cleared the shuttle landing area for the quarantine. Washing away blood, sweat, and tears from the near-riot Yamamoto-Genryuusai's men had just - barely - kept under control.

Washing away footprints.

Some, near the canteen and other places, were tiny. A casual observer might have assumed they were made by an escaped mouse. The Shibas, or Shihouin, had they been there to see, would have swiftly corrected that impression, identifying them as one of humanity's most persistent tagalongs, _Rattus norvegicus_; the Norway rat. And they would have worried.

Pound for pound, Norway rats are one of the most ineradicable mammals known. They can fall hundreds of feet unharmed. They can chew through concrete. They can sense and avoid irradiated areas, by scenting near-undetectable amounts of ozone. They run in packs - in swarms. They learn… and they are aggressively, relentlessly omnivorous.

Including, even, snacking on a bit of unidentified tissue caught in the corrugations of a bloodied boot. A boot that should have been disposed of before the shuttles ever touched down.

Later efforts to unearth the truth would never be certain who let that boot linger too long. Survivors and newcomers alike had had their lives disrupted - again - and it would be days before anyone took the obvious, basic step of a roll call. Meaning, here and now, no one had yet realized some of the clean-up crew had gone missing.

Rats bite.

Footprints softened like wax in the rain, blurring away. Some tiny. Others… not.

----

_"We decided to leave this town just one goddamned day too late!" _

"No arguments there," Shunsui chuckled at the monitor as the two movie handymen tried to outrun underground death. "What you need are blasting charges…."

Sandwiched between him and Juushirou, Toushirou tried to relax and watch the movie. No Hollows, no parents, no poisonous-gas explosives set to kill them all. Just a tiny desert town that had never really existed, with monsters that weren't real. At all.

_I wish it weren't raining. _

From the stray pulses tickling his skin, everybody else seemed to feel the same way. It wasn't that the rain was _bad_, exactly. It just… prickled at him. Made him want to _do_ something. Weird. Almost scary.

…Maybe not almost.

_Pack is here_, the winter-dragon murmured in his mind as white and brown tentacles intertwined with his. _Not-alone. Not hungry. Don't need to hunt._

_I'm not hunting anything!_ Toushirou thought furiously.

_Will_, ice chuckled serenely. _Did. Play-hunt Squeaker, fun!_

Yes. It had been. He hadn't wanted to hurt it, but - the chase, the challenge….

:_Cub?_: Juushirou; he could tell by the image-rumble of waves and lightning.

:_Scared_,: he answered without meaning to. :_Joy in hunt. Wanting to hunt again. Wanting to_ hurt _enemy-Yamamoto-Genryuusai; blood on claws, human heart stilling. Scared._:

:_Didn't hurt him._: Shunsui, steady as leaning into a howling wind. :_Stay with pack. Warmth. Safe._:

Fur shifted against his, prickling, as Shunsui purred softly into his shoulder. Toushirou relaxed a little at a time, comfort touching inside and out as the snow-dragon soothed him. _Play-hunt is good_, it murmured. _My-Toushirou, warm, not-alone - play-hunt, yes._

Juushirou stroked his tendrils, even as Dr. Unohana peered around the analyst with a frown. "Is everything alright?" she asked.

"We're afraid," Juushirou said honestly. "We're… not what we were. And the rain makes it worse. It's… lonely."

"Makes sense," Kisuke said thoughtfully. "If the original spores had to get through a mucus membrane, or infiltrate through a wound, it'd be easier when conditions are moist-" Catching the mass glares, he shut up.

"But you're not alone now," Masaki pointed out.

"Which may be all that's keeping us from doing anything drastic," Yoruichi said reluctantly. "Humans are pack animals, and frightened pack members don't want to be alone. Believe it or not, I think grouping together like this is helping us reinforce _human_ instinct-"

Dr. Unohana yelped.

Juushirou uncoiled from both of them with lightning speed. "Are you alright?"

The doctor shoved back her sleeve, poking reddened skin. "It just felt like a prickle…."

"Analyzer," Isshin said sharply, as the room erupted into motion.

_"Food for five years, a thousand gallons of gas, air filtration, water filtration, Geiger counter. Bomb shelter!"_ the movie survivalist said numbly, as the makeshift rescue truck chugged away from his broken fortress. _"Underground goddamned monsters…."_

----

Quiet. Cautious. Too many of the humans carried scents of :_should-be-prey,_: yet also of :_not-quite-them_.: It didn't fit. It was _wrong_.

So, caution. No matter how :_alone_.:

And more caution now, with a :_mine!_: subdued and quiet in the running-water-naked-place. Normally, it would just leave the feverish human, to mark more :_mine_: and :_prey_.: But with so many _should-be-prey_….

Lifting limp flesh in its tentacles, it padded back out into the rain.

_Hide mine. Wait. Watch._

Others had snatched their own; in the rain, in the laughable little fury of humans clashing. So far, the _should-be-prey_ hadn't noticed-

Yes. Here would do. Underneath, and hidden; and where the :_mine!_: would be inside _should-be-prey_'s blind guards.

Now, _that_ was going to be _funny_.

Squirming back out into the rain, it padded off :_alone_: again-

_Gunshot!_

It melted into shadows.

Scent of blood and brains. Running feet. Shouts of alarm.

It was… curious.

Claws and tentacles gained it the roof. Crouched over blood-smell, it :_listened_: down. Body without heartbeat, _should-be-prey_ and _prey_ with it, picking up hot-metal-gunpowder from the floor.

_Killed itself? Waste of meat. _

Rippling distaste, it vanished into the rain.

----

Sergeant Petrillo shook off rain, and advanced into the shinigami's makeshift lab. "What have we got?" It had to be important. They wouldn't have sent Ryuuken out to relieve him early if it wasn't.

"So far, just a minor allergic reaction," Yoruichi reported, frowning at the results as the Shibas and Kiskue Urahara poked various analyzing devices. "Like a mosquito bite."

Sarge took in Toushirou and Major Kyouraku surreptitiously keeping Juushirou from running, Dr. Unohana's uneasy glance at her alcohol-wiped arm, Isshin's guilty shift of feet, and Kaien's grimace as he tried not to finger the red marks on his bared neck and shoulder. "Some mosquito."

"I don't think anyone did it on purpose-" Masaki started.

"No offense, but that's the scary part," Kyouraku said bluntly. "We _didn't know_. This rain is setting off _something_ in our heads, and if we'd been stinging each other with anything lethal…."

"Oxytocin," Isshin spoke up, puzzled.

Which got him a startled look from the scientific half of the bunch, and a confused one from everyone else. Sarge raised an eyebrow for an explanation.

"_Cuddle_ hormone?" Dr. Unohana said in disbelief.

Okay, now Sarge was even more confused.

"Not human-standard, or even mammalian-normal," Isshin went on, eyeing his results like they'd grown teeth. Which, given what the guy was working on - yeah. "But it's definitely… huh."

Masaki and Kisuke crowded in. "So that's what that funky little gene does," Kisuke said thoughtfully.

"Looks like." Isshin scratched his head. "What the hell?"

"English?" Toushirou demanded.

"It's used to promote emotional bonding," Masaki filled in. "A social group, parents and offspring, mated pairs…. Sometimes it's called trust hormone. Because that's what it does; make you more likely to trust people around when it's in your system."

"It's one of the reasons human mothers usually don't kill their own brats when they've been woken up at three in the morning for months straight," Yoruichi said wryly. "But that doesn't look like oxytocin."

"No," Kisuke agreed. "Analagous compound, but no. It's hitting the same spots on neurotransmitters, but this is definitely of viral origin."

"These things are killers," Sarge pointed out, skeptical. "Why do they need to trust anything?"

"Why do we, Sarge?" Kaien shrugged. "It'd make them able to hunt in packs."

Silence. Broken by Kyouraku's sigh. "I'm going on the record as saying I have a _bad_ feeling about this."

"I can't blame you," Masaki nodded. "Especially given some of the trace proteins in the site of the nematocyst injections are viral coat fragments."

"Damn," Kaien said grimly.

"You _said_ nobody was infectious." Sarge eyed them all darkly.

"They're not," Kaien said bluntly. "If I'm reading what Kisuke's got up there right," he nodded at a bunch of scientific text alongside a stylized DNA helix on one of the monitors, "the shinigami still have the genes for the lytic cells that let a Hollow make the virus, and pass it on to the nematocysts to be injected. Stinging cells," he added at his commander's look. "What they _don't_ have is the genes to properly wind up the viral RNA into one neat package, and assemble the viral coat proteins into a capsule. Virus genes by themselves are like a slug with no gunpowder; they mostly can't get into the cell, and if they do, it's _not_ in one piece. A virus needs to be wrapped up in a shell of proteins to get past the immune system, get through the cell membrane, and deliver the payload."

"Steel-jacketed bullet, plus gunpowder," Sarge said, testing the analogy.

"Or like strikers," Kaien nodded. "How far would we have gotten into the project without a shuttle to drop us off? On foot?"

Chewed to pieces and spat out by the Hollows. Made sense. "So you _do_ have the virus-"

"The shinigami form, only," Kisuke stuck in quickly.

"-But you can't pass it to anybody," Sarge finished. His eyes narrowed. "So why'd they get stung?"

From the winces, he knew he'd hit paydirt.

Masaki braced herself, and met his gaze. "We don't have a genetic profile of everyone who was infected. Not even everyone who was vaccinated, yet. But of the profiles we do have… certain common factors are standing out."

Kaien muttered something unprintable under his breath. "Let me guess. Isshin's right."

"I wouldn't put our estimate at better than ninety percent accurate at the moment, but - yes," Kisuke said gravely. "Sergeant Petrillo falls safely into the category of minimal vaccination side effects. You and Dr. Unohana… don't."

"Oh," said doc said faintly. "My."

"I'm _sorry_," Juushirou blurted out, pale. "I didn't mean to - you were _kind_, and - we didn't know-"

She held up a deliberate hand. "No harm done." Swept her gaze over them all. "But you realize this is only going to add weight to General Yamamoto-Genryuusai's decision to keep you quarantined."

"It should," Isshin sighed, looking tired. "We many not be infectious, but we sure as hell aren't _safe_."

Damn. Morale here had just gone crash. Which wasn't good for anybody. "Where's Yamada?" Sarge said abruptly. A paramedic ought to know something about treating emotional shock.

"In bed, with Isane," Yoruichi told him. "Sleeping," she added dryly, before he could hide a smile. "He's… fragile."

"Torture does that to a guy," Sarge snorted.

"He wasn't-"

"He was," Kyouraku said grimly. "You know what we feel. He would've felt the rest being shot, while he was tied down and waiting for the next bullet. Hughes has a lot to answer for."

"Yeah, well - fragile or not, Yamada's got the right idea." Sarge crossed his arms. "You need sleep. Nobody makes good calls when they're exhausted." _Rest of them get a pass, but you ought to know better, Major. We need to talk._

The group broke up reluctantly, shutting down everything that didn't have to stay running. Sarge watched over them a few minutes, then headed just outside in the rain, enjoying a little peace and quiet.

Wasn't too surprising when Kyouraku joined him. "Not doing so well, am I."

"Kept the kid from gutting the general," Sarge shrugged. He'd made sure at least one guy on watch always kept the channel tuned to the rest of the camp's security reports. Better to know what they were up to, in case they decided to be up to it this direction. "Kept them together this far. Not bad."

"If they were my security guys, I'd know what to do," Kyouraku admitted. "But Rollefson's got those now. The ones that didn't die saving the civilians, or when Hughes-" He cut himself off. "We're here together, but we're not a team."

Sarge raised a dark brow. "You forget our little conversation about these people not being civilians anymore?"

Kyouraku eyed him. Grimaced.

_Calling somebody_, Sarge deduced, catching the subtle writhing under the major's raincoat. _Three guesses who._

"Shunsui?" Juushirou stepped out into the rain with them. "What's wrong?"

"It feels like giving up," Kyouraku said quietly.

"What does?" Though from the frown on the analyst's face, he already had some idea.

"Grouping together like this. Not scientists. Not soldiers. Just…."

"The pack?" Juushirou finished levelly.

"…Yeah."

_Sometimes, it freaks me out to be right_, Sarge thought wryly.

"Toushirou needs a family." Juushirou held up a hand at their combined frowns. "I was dying, Shunsui. I think I know why everyone's… upset. We _all_ need a family. To know we're not alone. And that has nothing to do with the virus. Our world shattered, and we have to find a way to make something good out of the pieces." His voice softened. "We can do it, Shunsui. We're strong enough. _You're_ strong enough."

"Hey, I never said," Kyouraku started. And shut up, at Juushirou's wry smile.

"You didn't have to," the analyst shrugged. "In a way, I think all of this might be hardest for you. The rest of us don't have prior training in controlled violence. We have nothing to compare this to. The other-voice is so loud, we know it's… well, not exactly us." Juushirou frowned. "Kisuke named his. I wonder if it helps?"

"Other voice?" Sarge said uneasily.

"The nerves packed into the tentacles seem to have put together a kind of instinctive reaction to some things," Kyouraku said reluctantly. "Like cuddling. Or things trying to kill us. Juushirou's is pretty loud; I can hear it, sometimes, through the pulses. Which is probably why he beat me and Toushirou to stinging Retsu." He nodded once, decided. "And this is why I need you, partner."

"But you wouldn't have hurt - I'm an analyst, and we don't _want_ to sting anyone else-"

"You _were_ an analyst," the major said firmly. "We've worked together. We've saved each other's necks. And I need someone who's _listening_ to what the vaccine did to us, so I know which way we're going to jump." He lowered his voice. "I need you, 'Shirou."

"I don't know anything about leading people!"

"You got me going again back in the labs, when we went after Toushirou," Kyouraku pointed out. "Just trust your instincts, and tell me what you really think."

Juushirou's brows bounced up. Reluctantly, he smiled. "I think we need you to teach us iaido."

"Huh?" Kyouraku blinked.

_Nice act_, Sarge thought sardonically. _Buys you time to think._

Evidently he wasn't the only one who saw through it. Juushirou didn't waver, just gestured to the sword at his side and the pair at the major's. "Our instincts feel better armed. Toushirou, especially; his other likes having a _longer claw_. But the _human_ part of us has no clue what to do with these. Teach us-"

"-And the two parts aren't fighting each other," Kyouraku finished. "Exercise, get everybody organized; get people moving, instead of brooding."

"Moving is _important_." Juushirou's voice was oddly fierce. "You don't know how much. Every time I had to hook up a new oxygen bottle, every doorway I banged into because of medical equipment... it was like walking on broken glass. Right now, every time we move, we remember what's happened to us. We need to move - to spar, if we can - and be safe." He hesitated. "Toushirou's other wants to - _play-hunt_, I think. If we can do that…."

"Tag," the major said thoughtfully. "And kata." Nodded. "Good plan." Smirked. "Don't think you're getting out of teaching, oh wise student of Aikido."

"It's been years… I guess I can try."

"Don't sell yourself short." Kyouraku deliberately wriggled a tentacle-tip in plain view. "We're going to be making half of it up as we go along anyway."

Juushirou smiled ruefully, and headed inside. "We'll work it out in the morning."

Kyouraku moved to follow, but Sarge gave him a look, and he stopped. "Something else?" the major said politely.

Sarge eyed him. "If he hadn't stung the doc, you or the kid would have."

"Probably," Kyouraku admitted. "We ought to be able to avoid it now that we know what we're doing."

"Kind of like to know why it happened at all," Sarge said levelly.

The major took a deep breath. Let it out, slowly. "We've got more in common with the Hollows than any of us wants to think about. We're still here, still _us_ - but that _other_ in our heads can be damn insistent. It _wants_. Like a three-year-old… no. That's not right. It's not like a kid, at all…."

Sarge crossed his arms, and waited.

"It's like a tiger on a leash," Kyouraku said reluctantly. "It's your tiger, it'll listen - but if you're not watching it, it does what it wants. And it doesn't want to be alone, and it definitely doesn't see any reason to let someone who _could-be-pack_ get away."

"So the general's right?" Sarge said neutrally.

"That we should stay clear of the rest of camp? Probably. That we should stay in quarantine? Definitely." The major grimaced. "But just because we're not safe now, doesn't mean we should be stuck here for good. We may not be pretty, but we're not contagious. And Isshin and the others might find something. We could get things under control better. Who knows?" He met Sarge's gaze. "We've got to believe we can go home someday, Sarge. I don't know if it's true or not - but we've got to believe it."

Sarge inclined his head. _Just one more thing to take care of, then_. "If they pull me out of here…."

"All of you came in for us. Orders or not, we're not going to forget that." Kyouraku nodded toward where the strikers were currently in virally-induced sleep. "They may be nuts, but I'll be glad to have them."

"_Because_ they're nuts," Sarge smirked.

The major started laughing, quiet and heartfelt. "Well, if we weren't crazy," he managed, "we'd never have gotten this far!"

----

Yamamoto-Genryuusai watched grim soldiers wheel Colonel Hughes' body out the door toward the field hospital, headed for the morgue. Granted, it was somewhat of a relief that there was no further need for a trial on top of the rest of this disaster. But for the colonel to do this now…. "It doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't, sir?"

Ah, Ms. Ise. Efficient young woman, if somewhat unnerving in her cool when taking official notes on a bloody suicide. "This," the general elaborated. "Here. Now. After we've survived so much already. It may seem difficult to believe, given the accounts I know you've heard, but Colonel Hughes was an exemplary officer before this outbreak. Orderly, respectful; not one black mark on his record. That he should do this, while Major Kyouraku is as cheerfully irrepressible as ever - it simply defies logic." He scowled, trying to ignore the odd tingles at the edge of his perceptions. _Damn_ the Shibas and their vaccine. And damn Kisuke Urahara in particular. "And he's not alone. You'd think even scientists would appreciate how close we all came to dying. Yet that reprobate Isshin offered to send us movie files. _Movie_ files! What do they think this is, summer camp?"

Nanao nudged up her glasses, regarding him gravely. "Sir, I've assisted in disaster recovery on a dozen different planets. This situation may be unique, but the general principles remain the same. We have food, water, shelter, and medical care. We don't know how long the quarantine will last, and we have a lot of upset people. A movie might be a good idea."

"We need _answers_, Ms. Ise. Not distractions."

"Everyone nearly died, General," Nanao said levelly. "They deserve a chance to celebrate that they didn't. That's what survivors do."

The general shook his head. "I have more respect for the dead than that, Ms. Ise. As the colonel would have."

Nanao started to say something, and stopped. Eyed her notes. And finally, looked back up again. "Sir, if I'd known what you just told me about Colonel Hughes earlier, I would have warned you he was a suicide risk."

"On what grounds?" the general said testily. "I just told you, he was the perfect officer-"

"Sir, have you considered that that's _why_ he's dead?"

Yamamoto-Genryuusai eyed the security still outside the door, and lowered his voice to a grim whisper. "Tread carefully, Ms. Ise. Very carefully. Whatever his actions in a fit of momentary insanity, I will not have you impugn a good man."

"I'm not impugning anyone, sir. Just stating a known fact." Nanao stared back, uncowed. "As a pre-colonization Terran SEAL instructor once said, _'The Rambo types are the first to go'_." Her face softened slightly, compassionate. "General, you've kept your people alive. If you want them to stay that way, and recover, given the ongoing situation with the vaccine, you need to know _why_ people survive." She eyed streaks of drying brown. "And why some don't."

"We cover survival training in the military, Ms. Ise."

"Sir, if you know any organization that trains people how to survive infectious virus-created monsters, please, let me know. If you stick to your training in a situation you _haven't_ been trained for, you often end up dead." She frowned. "General, do you know why I haven't pushed to get a counselor over to the shinigami camp? Besides the fact that I do know Dr. Unohana, and I trust her to recognize and request help for anyone in over their heads."

"Enlighten me," the general said dryly.

"You arranged for the base to be rescued," Nanao said plainly. "But they rescued themselves."

The general snorted. "I believe Sergeant Petrillo's force might have been a contributing factor."

"Of course it was. But the fact that the shinigami were still alive when he got there is because they _survived_." She tapped her notepad, files opening. "Across cultures and centuries, people who survive extreme situations have certain common characteristics. I won't bore you with a point-by-point rundown - I've already sent the relevant files to your computer for later reference - but here are some of the most critical." One finger went up. "They accepted reality, and looked for opportunities, even risky ones. I quote Dr. Isshin Shiba: _'We're vaccinated. All they can do is kill us.'_" Another finger. "They organized, and they planned. I may not have the clearance to know just what sensitive equipment had to be destroyed, but they went in to do it. They _didn't_ run. Put that together with the fact that the scientific team brought out their research _and_ the test mice - they didn't panic, either." A third. "They helped each other survive. It's called the _bulwark of compassion_. Focus on someone who needs you, instead of self-pity, and your chances go considerably up." Fourth. "And finally, if Major Kyouraku and Toushirou are anything to go by, they've kept their sense of humor, and they don't give up."

She certainly _looked_ serious. Yamamoto-Genryuusai regarded her quizzically, nonetheless. "Ms. Ise. Have you _met_ Kisuke Urahara? The man has all the discipline and respect of a five-year-old!"

"Five-year-olds have often survived situations that kill everyone else," Nanao said practically. "And no one gets multiple Ph.D.s, much less at his age, without enough mental discipline to make a marathon runner cry." She tucked her notepad under her arm. "General, if you don't need further documentation here, I'm going to be consulting with our medics and Dr. Unohana. We've already determined that those who've been vaccinated respond better to some Quincy medications than to the standard doses. I'd like to know if there have been any updates." She frowned. "I also need to arrange for fresh consumables for the next supply run. Apparently the local government gave us some of their in-storage emergency galley supplies, and a good quarter of those were contaminated by rats. The cooks are _furious_."

"Get me a list, and I'll see it's requisitioned," the general acknowledged. Movies might be frivolous in the wake of so much death, but upset cooks were a recipe for shattered morale. "Dismissed."

Nodding politely, she left.

Frowning, Yamamoto-Genryuusai went over the small office one more time, then stepped out and closed the door. Logically, he should assign someone else to use this room; even done on computers, paperwork required a certain amount of space, and there was an unholy amount of it that needed to be pushed through. Realistically… no. There came a point at which even the most disciplined troops would balk.

_So why didn't I see it coming? I knew you, Hughes. Why do this? _

Distasteful as the colonel's actions had been, he could understand executing those in the cocoons. He might not condone it, but he certainly understood. Shihouin had already proved herself a security threat of the most unexpected sort - and if all his men couldn't stop her, what would _more_ of them have been able to do?

_You did what you thought necessary. As always. Yet you_ knew _you had a duty to serve, even if only to face your court-martial. Why would you abandon that?_

Walking outside, he frowned at muddy ground, still damp from last night's storm. Given the amount of foot traffic around here, he might have to add artificial turf to Ise's list. Depending, of course, on how long the quarantine would last. Though side effects aside, he couldn't see it lasting too much longer. A week, perhaps two. If Madsen's Hollow had one saving grace, it was that it couldn't hide itself in an infected human. Not for long.

_But the shinigami_….

The Shibas might be dedicated researchers, but they were all too friendly with Urahara. And while that over-educated layabout might have worked diligently on the mass-transport theory for the greater good of the Republic, he'd _never_ stand for being explored as a defense asset himself.

Well. There should be some legitimate reason to keep their contact with uncleared people… limited. _Venomous_, for god's sake!

Pondering regulations, he headed back to work.

----

"So you don't think any of the altered neurochemistry should be increasing suicidal tendencies," Nanao summed up. The laptop video showed her indulging in a rare instance of rebellion against the terminal stupidity of the world, chair tilted half off the ground.

"If anything, it should make people more resilient, not less," Retsu said plainly, studying her notes. It was a bit eerie to be working next to silent chrysalides, alone save for the thumps and yelps drifting in from outside. But it wasn't bad. "I've seen anger, and humor, and grief - but no despair. Not to mention, a curious absence of panic. Which even the shinigami can tell isn't normal."

"Hmm."

Retsu eyed the pile waiting between the silent pallets, giving Nanao time to think that over. Boots, folded scrubs already cut and hemmed along the back, a note from Sarge explaining in no uncertain terms _why_ there were no guns, ammunition, or grenades, and two sheathed swords.

Redundant, to most eyes. After all, there was always someone here.

Then again, given only Urahara's "unnecessarily redundant" security measures designed into the bio lab, the physics lab, and the shelter itself had let _anyone_ survive… well. She didn't blame them one bit.

"What kind of anger?" Nanao asked carefully.

Retsu frowned. "I haven't seen a lot of that. They're grateful just to have a helping hand. What I have seen has been mostly brief flashes. Very _contained_ flashes. Aimed at the general, the Hollows… and the aliens who designed the virus in the first place."

_Thump_.

Retsu listened to the silence on the other end of the link. Tried not to snicker, as Nanao's pale face reappeared and fumbling hands righted her chair. The administrative assistant's jaw worked, and she pronounced her next words with exquisite care. "Did you say, _aliens?_"

"That's their working theory," Retsu nodded.

_"Aliens?" _

"They make a good argument," the doctor said levelly, sending one of her personal note files. "Take a look."

Nanao read. Blinked, and re-read. Swallowed hard. Sat back, and thought some more. "And they're still resilient."

"Very much in one-step-at-a-time mode," Retsu agreed. "Short term, they're keeping each other safe and studying what data they have. Long term, they intend to find the ultimate source. And do something _permanent_ about it."

"I think I can imagine," Nanao said dryly. "If Major Kyouraku hadn't been there, I think the general would have had something permanent happen to him."

"Toushirou?" Retsu said in disbelief. "He's twelve-"

"He's _focused_, Retsu. There were half a dozen guards pointing weapons at him, and he _wasn't scared_." Nanao shook her head. "I've seen that kind of focus before. Usually, in cats stalking mice." She held up a hand before Retsu could object. "I don't think he wanted to hurt them. But he'd _already decided_ he would, whenever they crossed some invisible line. And you _know_ that's not normal."

No. Most people, even most trained law enforcement personnel, would hesitate before resorting to violence. Stammer, threaten, try to distract what was heading their way. If a twelve-year-old hadn't…. "And then the general showed up."

"Bang," Nanao said grimly. "If he'd been willing to hurt the major to get free, I don't think security could have stopped him." Her eyes narrowed. "You're not surprised."

"It fits with the neurochemistry I've been looking at," Retsu admitted. "They don't just have an extra oxytocin analogue." She paged up another of her files, looking at an alien compound that apparently mimicked noradrenaline. "Focus, and… aggression, under certain circumstances, is exactly what I'd expect."

"What kind of circumstances?" Nanao asked pointedly.

"What you saw, mostly," Retsu sighed. "They're still human, Nanao. Just… tweaked a bit. Admittedly toward the extreme end of the spectrum, but it _is_ human."

"You think," Nanao said levelly.

"I don't have enough data to be sure," Retsu said candidly. "Which is pretty much what everyone here is saying. But they're determined to think of themselves as human."

"Hmm." Nanao nudged up her glasses. "So what are they up to right now?"

Retsu chuckled. "Tag."

_"Ouch!"_ came a yelp that sounded suspiciously like Isshin.

"Tag?" Nanao said dryly.

"It's very _energetic_ tag…."

----

"That does it." Masaki's chuckle held a wry, rueful note. "You are _never_ playing Twister again."

Squished on the bottom of a furry, muscled pile, Isshin still grinned. "Ah, my love." :_Sweet, cuddly warmth; scent that belongs._: "Why would you give up a sport in which you have such an overwhelming advantage? One glance from your beautiful eyes, one tremble of your - um - ribs, when you breathe-"

_Thwack_. From at least three directions simultaneously.

"Oooh." Isshin blinked. "Tingly."

The knot unraveled with lightning speed; Shunsui, Tessai, and Kisuke scrambling off, while Yoruichi moved in to feel his pulse and stare into his eyes as Isane grabbed for a first aid kit. "Breathe," Yoruichi said sternly. "Don't you dare stop, Isshin. None of us will forgive you."

"Not a problem," Isshin managed, a little numb. "Just can't move… wait a minute." Determined, he twitched a finger. "No, no; think I'm okay."

"Yeah?" Toushirou said skeptically, leaning into Juushirou on the sidelines.

"Well… think I will be. Ow!" He tried to glare at Isane and her toxin sampler, barely raised his head.

"If you were normal, you'd be dead." The nurse shook her head, and held the sampler so he could see the results. "It looks as though you have antibodies."

"That explains a lot," Kisuke murmured, looking slightly less guilty.

"Intra-species toxin immunity is fairly common among venomous creatures," Yoruichi observed. "You've fought Hollows close in before. I'd guess it's the multiple dose that got you this time."

"So," Juushirou frowned, "while feeling friendly produces oxytocin…."

"Being annoyed equals neurotoxin," Shunsui finished. "That doesn't make sense."

"Actually, it does." Masaki helped Isshin wobble to his feet. "At least, it does in the more advanced Terran creatures with nematocysts. I was looking it up with Yoruichi. There can be dozens of different kinds, all packed together, just released in response to different situations. Some species use them to do everything from digest their prey to sting off competition to… well, mating chemicals."

For some reason, half the crowd had gone pink.

"Just be glad we don't have anything in common with leeches," Yoruichi said dryly. And deliberately eyed Kisuke. "Sperm packets that dissolve their way through your flesh are not my idea of a good time."

_Nobody_ seemed to want to look anyone else in the eye after that one.

"Are you alright, Isshin?" Tessai asked bluntly.

"Eh, I'll live." Isshin gave their two would-be self-defense instructors a reluctant smile. "Think I'll sit the rest of this lesson out."

"You probably should." Shunsui planted his hands on his hips, and shook his head. "Okay, people. New safety tip. No smacking, or constricting, unless you're sure you're calm enough not to sting. And _none_ in practice." :_Agreed?_:

:_Agreed_,: pulsed back; some quickly, others after an instant.

Shunsui crossed his arms. Eyed Isshin and Kisuke.

"This isn't exactly an emergency," Kisuke noted, trying on a wry smile.

"No," Juushirou acknowledged. "But did you consider that part of what drives us, what makes us most dangerous, is that drive to be _not-alone?_ Remaining mute in the company of those who speak is almost as lonely as having no one to talk to at all."

_They're going to push, and he's going to dig in his heels, smile, and flow away like water_, Isshin knew. Caught Shunsui's gaze, and raised an eyebrow. _Why don't you let us handle this?_

:_Handle it now._: The major's gaze held sympathy, but no compromise. :_Pack needs to be safe around not-pack._:

Kisuke stiffened. "I am not-"

Which was just enough time for Isshin to latch onto his friend by one shoulder while Masaki circled around to grab the other. "'Scuse us," Isshin said breezily.

Kisuke was stiff under their hands, but let them lead (and drag) him away, behind the secondary equipment tent. Out of sight, and hopefully out of earshot.

"He works for the general."

_Ah_, Isshin thought. Here was at least the start of the sticking point. "He used to, sure. You see him over with Yamamoto-Genryuusai now?"

"That's not the point." Gray eyes studied them both, alight with frustrated anger. "He's Kyouraku's commanding officer. Once we beat this… _influence_, that's the loyalty he'll go back to. And you know the general. He isn't exactly looking at mass-transport for _civilian_ applications." Fingers clenched, tips of claws flicking in and out of sight. "Damn it, Isshin, what do you think Yamamoto thinks _we_ are? He didn't leave us alive just because it was the _right thing to do_."

Wobbly as he was, Isshin felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"He's right," Masaki said, lovely eyes sad. "The general's been stuck in charge of a research base for years, and we all know how glorious he _doesn't_ think it is. Quincys are a weapon. If he could give something to the government that's even more promising, weapon-wise, than a Quincy…."

"Quincys are handy because they look just like everybody else," Isshin pointed out. "We don't."

A familiar aura, and Yoruichi blurred to a stop beside them. "Quincys also have the same problems pulling the trigger as everybody else," the behaviorist pointed out. "As far as I can tell, we don't."

Isshin swallowed hard. He didn't _want_ to believe that….

_But you know what you'd do, if you really thought the general was a threat to family. You_ know.

"Which, for some missions I've read about, would make us more than valuable enough to work on disguising the rest," Yoruichi finished grimly.

"See?" Kisuke looked at him askance.

"I see we've got a problem," Isshin admitted. Braced himself. :_But not-talking, won't help. Need Shunsui_ away _from not-pack leader. Need him to protect pack._ He _needs us talking_.:

"For more reasons than the obvious," Yoruichi said as Kisuke flinched. "Human pack instinct shuns those who won't communicate. Other pack animals can get by on tactile contact and visual signals; we need all that, _and_ conversation, if we want to connect. You don't want Shunsui falling back into line under Yamamoto? Then we need to appeal to his _other_ loyalties." :_Shunsui-and-Juushirou, protecting cub, injured, pack._: She gave Kisuke a moment to stop twitching, and arched a purple brow. "Kisuke. This is my area of expertise. Do you trust me enough to listen?"

"…I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"Oh for goodness' sake, stop pouting!" Masaki exclaimed. "If you think any of us like this, you haven't been paying attention."

"I'm not pouting," Kisuke protested. Turned an innocent look on Isshin. "Was I pouting?"

Isshin held thumb and forefinger a fraction apart. "Maybe just a little."

Kisuke let out a resigned breath. "You want to work _with_ the instincts, don't you."

"I think it's our best option," Yoruichi said candidly. "We need the pack to keep from hurting people. We need it to give Shunsui something _to_ lead; if he has a place with us, he won't be so quick to jump at the general's call. We need it to protect each other, because outside of a few honest, open-minded people like Retsu? _No one_ else is going to want to." She paused. "And if we're right, and this was just the opening salvo in what could be a very ugly war - then the Republic needs us to stay alive. No matter what odd things are going on in our heads."

Kisuke held her gaze a long moment; looked down and away. "I don't want to be like them."

"As if you ever could be." Masaki gave him a warm smile. :_Friend. Ours. Stay_.:

Still soft as the wind, Isshin observed, but unmistakably like theirs. It was… nice.

"You heard the Hollows," Masaki went on. "Were _any_ of them like that?"

Isshin felt Kisuke shake before he saw it. Stepped forward as his friend's resolve crumbled, and let himself be caught in a four-way hug.

:_Won't be caged._: Fear and anger and the incandescent fury that was Benihime, singing through Kisuke's soul. :_Won't be a weapon! Want_ out….:

"We'll find a way," Isshin murmured, holding on tight. "I don't know how. Not yet. But we _will_ find one."

----

A/N: If you're interested, the movie is "Tremors". And _Deep Survival_ is a very good book on who lives, and who dies, in survival situations.


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you sure you're all right?" Kaien asked, yet again. Ignoring a few wry looks as various people picked up what was left from dinner. Given it was after dark and Isshin was still moving a little slow, he had every right to be… concerned.

"Just a few tingles," Isshin shrugged. "You just want to play with the furballs."

"Well, if you need the help…." Kaien grinned. "How'd you end up with one that's pink, anyway?" He wasn't even going to mention blue, green, and some whacked-out reds.

"Same reason Yoruichi's tendrils are purple," Isshin admitted, heading for the partition at the far end of the tent, where mice and various other equipment were out of the hustle and bustle of daily life. "Part of what Madsen's Hollow does is make toxins that go after the brain. I figured if we couldn't be sure we squashed all those genes, the best thing to do was tag those compounds so they got excreted in the hair instead-" He shut up.

Not fast enough. "That was _your_ fault?" The lovely lady in question glared at his cousin. "And all this time I've been blaming Kisuke, you maniac gene-splicer!"

"Who, me?" Grinning, Isshin dashed for the curtain-

Stopped dead, hand raised to draw it back. "Something's wrong."

Kaien didn't think; just acted, gun drawn and stepping through. The shinigami were civilians, they weren't armed, and Sarge had finally gotten a local wildlife hazards file out of somebody, which had listed a kind of nasty giant centipede-snake which just _might_ have been able to make it past the perimeter sensors-

_"No!"_

Crash that had to be plastic cages cracking. Isshin's hands - too slow! - yanking him back. His gunshots flashing thunder and metal at flying, rank _blurs_. The hissing, and an awful, aching sting at his throat-

_"Protect Retsu!" _

Juushirou; and Kaien hoped to god they were in time for her. He _knew_ they weren't in time for him.

Silver flashed in Isshin's eyes, and flames twisted around his hands. The mini-Hollows jumping for him died in squealing agony. Yoruichi slashed the next few out of the air, and Isane was there with ice, and suddenly the shinigami had the weight of numbers-

_Stay calm._ Kaien let himself drop to one knee as the venom made his breath short and gasping, even when every instinct cried out to be fighting. _Adrenaline spreads it. Stay calm._

Seven, no eight dead gray bodies, as Isane dropped frozen shreds with a snarl. One of the mouse cages was shattered on the ground, its more ordinary occupants huddled like pups behind a bloodied protective trio of Grim Squeakers. At least two of the Hollows on the floor had been shredded, and _not_ by bullets.

Given said Hollows out-massed the Squeakers about four-to-one, well, _damn_.

"Rats," Yoruichi breathed, voice thick with horror. "We've got _rats_."

Isshin said nothing, stepping around terrified mice to take a case full of familiar injectors out of one of the currently-off growth chambers. Took one, and handed the case to Yoruichi. "Pass 'em out."

"I _thought_ everything we had that could have come in contact with the virus got incinerated," Kaien objected.

"They were. These are new." Isshin dosed him. "We have the formula for the vaccine on file, Kaien. We made these up as soon as we had a tent standing to run some RNA-assemblers and growth chambers in."

"…You know, under any other circumstances, I'd be _really_ worried about that."

"Thought crossed our minds. But we couldn't sleep until we knew we had a batch in process. Not with unvaccinated people around." Isshin picked him up bodily.

_Man, he does_ not _look that strong_. "I can walk-"

_"Stay still." _

Out and into the strikers' area; Hanatarou was there, shaking, obviously wanting to run but just as obviously determined not to leave his charges.

_Guy has guts. Definitely. _

Sarge burst into the tent just as Isshin laid him down by Ikkaku's cot. "Hell's going on? Kisuke and the kid just came out to trade off with Kyouraku, and they all twitched and _threw_ me back this way-"

"Hell," Yoruichi said grimly, holding up a limp, bloodied mass with tentacles, "is exactly what's going on."

The sergeant didn't pale, but he looked even grimmer than usual. "Is that…?"

"I think it was a rat," the behaviorist said bleakly.

"Dr. Shiba," Sarge growled.

"We don't have any rats," Isshin said bluntly.

Sarge nodded. "Kaien."

"Looks like I'm out of this one." Kaien tried to smile. "Take care of my family, okay?"

"Be a lot easier if _somebody_ hadn't abandoned his post," Sarge said darkly.

"They didn't have a choice." Yoruichi dropped the dead Hollow into a biohazard box, locked it, and triggered _incinerate_. "Hollows try to spread. If even one of this batch was human, where do you think it's headed?"

"The shuttles," Kaien breathed.

Sarge looked ready to bite heads off nails. "Ah, hell."

----

"Sometimes, I hate being right," Shunsui lamented. :_Stay back, cub-_:

:_No_.: Not quite a snarl, but Toushirou's eyes flickered silver as they ran. :_Staying. Fighting._:

Saving his breath, Kisuke headed for the landing pad, :_feeling_: as far as he could reach. Behind him were firework-sparkles of :_fear, determination, decision_,: as the other shinigami fell back on the striker's area and sorted out who'd stay and protect the wounded, and who'd go. :_Ryuuken's coming_,: Juushirou's projection was clear. :_In case something gets off the ground._:

Which Kisuke sincerely hoped would _not_ happen. But hope was thin on the ground tonight. Because ahead of them-

:_Herd prey, not-sting prey, find_ more-:

They moved through dead, dying, or frothing security in a blur, hitting the first open shuttle door at a dead run.

_Open. The door's open. Didn't anybody_ notice?

A fleeting panic, buried as swords sang and tentacles twisted and the pilot the Hollow had cornered against the controls cowered away from the spray of blood.

Later, Kisuke would wince at what he did next. And worry. Right now, though, he knew what Shunsui _needed_ done, and he was the closest while the other two made sure the Hollow was dead and :_listened_: for more.

Gripping the pilot's uniform shirt, he held him eye to eye. "Shut it down."

"I - they - you saw, monsters, we need to get _out_ of here!"

Obviously, he was not getting through to the man. Another yank, and they were nose to nose. "Shut it down," Kisuke enunciated. "Lock the board. We're locking them _all_ down. _No one_ is flying out of here."

"But - you know what they are! They'll eat us - they'll _infect_ us-!"

"And if they get off this island, they'll hit the spaceport first. And then the planet. And then every other planet they can force a ship to. Shut it down!"

"Your _eyes_…."

_Silver_, Kisuke realized, letting the pilot shudder out of his grasp. _When we're angry… they're silver_.

Just like the Hollows.

The pilot scrambled back, hands shaking as he locked down the controls. "Oh god, the general's going to-"

"Yamamoto's got his own problems," Shunsui said grimly, staring through the night toward the rest of camp. Toushirou was trembling beside him; not with fear, but the grim determination that this time, it was the _Hollows_ that were going to die. "Kisuke."

"I'll handle this." Kisuke steeled himself. _"Go."_

A blur of wind, and they were gone.

Hauling the yelping pilot along, Kisuke ran through thrashing, rabid infectees, heading for the other shuttles. _Ryuuken better be bringing vaccine with him, or we're going to have even worse problems-_

:_Prey! Prey! Eat you!_:

A swarm of small blurry bodies, and he lost the pilot, fighting just to keep his own throat unstung. There were so many….

_Too many_, crimson fury crooned in his mind. _Too many for my-Kisuke, alone. Call me. Call me, and let_ us _fight!_

Later, he'd shiver at how _good_ an idea that had seemed. Much later.

:_"Sing, Benihime!"_:

----

_If they knew what I know_, Nanao thought bleakly from her seat in one of the mess hall's back corners, _I doubt anyone would be watching this movie._

Which was a shame. Usually, she'd enjoy _Yellow Eyes_. The original book might have been written decades pre-colonization, but the authors had woven together a scenario of alien treachery and mingled human perfidy and heroism that even today felt grippingly _real_.

And the special effects - not least the USS _Des Moines_' holographic Valkyrie - were _awesome_.

But fighting off invading aliens was one thing. Fighting aliens that invaded _you_… brr.

She hoped the project scientists were wrong. She _wanted_ them to be wrong. But if they were right….

_Oh, for goodness' sake, even if they are wrong we'd have to get word out about Madsen's Hollow sometime. If this was originally a spore in rock, who's to say someone didn't ship a mineral sample out somewhere to be stumbled over? _

But if they were right… and Dr. Tsukabishi had frankly admitted none of them had a clue how the virus pulled off the transformation, it was violating the Laws of Thermodynamics all to hell and gone….

When a physicist told you the universe wasn't working right, it was time to look for intelligent interference.

Hunched forward in her seat, Nanao mentally tossed the facts in the air, and watched how they fell.

_If it's a natural phenomenon, we've already taken the necessary steps. Quarantine, contain, vaccinate, and wait for any new cases to show up. If it's_ not….

Contrary to a lot of people's beliefs, natural disasters didn't go gunning for anyone. Designed disasters… implied a designer. And in her experience, anyone who designed something this lethal-

_Evil_, Nanao told herself ruthlessly. _Call it what it is_.

Anyone so lost to human morality that they'd do _this_, would be less than thrilled to see any survivors. Severely so. With extreme prejudice.

_We could all be in danger. I've got to talk to the general-_

The movie screen flickered.

_Is that the emergency exit? _

She'd swear she'd just seen the door down by the front of the hall, near the screen, open and shut. But she hadn't seen anybody walk through.

The screen flickered again. Mess hall lights, already dimmed, went out with bursts of sparks. The crowd was murmuring, shifting in their seats, twitchy with the first breath of panic-

_I didn't see anything_, Nanao realized, facts tumbling into place like ice in her gut. _The door opened, long enough to walk through, and I didn't see_ anything-

She was out of her chair and moving, just as the screaming began.

_Don't stop, don't you dare stop - you're not armed, you're not vaccinated, get outside, get to the Command Center and the guards-_

In a survival situation, the first person you have to rescue is _you_.

Even with only seconds to react, Nanao would have expected more of a crush near the door. But most of those screaming weren't running; instead, they were curled in fetal agony, like people without ear-protectors at ground zero of an incoming spaceship's thunder.

_Door. Out-_

She slammed it open. It rebounded before it could hit the wall, jarring off something solid that _hissed_.

_Trap. They_ meant _to drive us this way!_

Momentum kept her moving when rational thought wanted to gibber and hide in a corner. She'd read the reports, there wasn't a building in the entire _camp_ that could stand up to a Hollow in a bad mood.

_Lunchboxes. Sergeant Petrillo called the prefabs_ lunchboxes.

The shinigami tents made sudden, awful, crystal-clear sense. If you couldn't lock the monsters _out_, you'd damn well better not get locked in with them.

But she _was_ out, into a night full of too many screams. She didn't know - she didn't _want_ to know - what was happening at the barracks. It couldn't be any prettier than what she knew was happening behind her-

Something yanked her leg, and she hit the ground. It hurt. But it was the sting that sent icicles down her spine.

_I'm dead_.

Best-case scenario, the vaccine would take almost twelve hours to get into production. Too late. Far too late.

But as it pulled, she dug her fingers into the ground and kicked anything she could reach. She might be dead-

_God, I don't know if I can do it - I don't know if I've got the courage to ask someone else- _

-But _damned_ if she'd let this thing drag her off to turn into a monster!

She threw a handful of vegetable-mud muck into glowing silver, and got to see it flinch; Hollows used other senses as much as sight, but that _had_ to sting-

"Duck!"

She'd seen katana in historical dramas. They didn't bring home the reality of glimmering steel, the precise _strike_ between silver eyes; slicing through skin and skull and pink matter until Major Kyouraku yanked it clear through the bisected throat.

"We owe Sarge a night on the house," the major said wryly, stained sword toward yet more ominous hissing as his own tentacles pried off the still-thrashing tangle around her leg. An almost-friendly yank on her arm, and she found herself spun behind him. "He got the good stuff."

"They're inside-" Nanao blinked through bits of mud, seeing more silver burn suddenly in the dark. "How many _are_ there?" And why hadn't anybody else made it out the doors, oh no….

"Human-based?" Kyouraku drew his second sword. "Probably twelve."

"How- you've got to get in there!"

"There's at least three in there, _and_ a bunch of hysterical people. Much as I hate to admit it, I'm not that good. Besides, that'd mean leaving these bastards to drag you off. I don't think so." His voice went cold. "Seventy-nine new people. Twenty percent vulnerable. One down here, one at the shuttles. And they only came for you and Retsu _now_ - you've always been with guards before. So. Twelve-"

Across camp by the shuttle-pad, something exploded.

"…Oops."

"Oops?" Nanao repeated, incredulous. _Why aren't they attacking us?_ "What was that?"

"Um." From the way he cleared his throat, the handsome idiot probably looked incredibly sheepish. "I think Kisuke finally got _mad_."

"Mad?" She tried not to shake as wavering monstrous outlines closed in. "Why? They're all over here-"

A last icy shred of logic fell into place. "The _rats_."

"You knew?" the major asked dryly.

"Er…."

"Nanao, my lovely," he sighed, "we _really_ need to talk more."

_"Don't call me your-!" _

Tentacles slashed.

----

_So many to kill, so little time. _

In the back of his mind, Kisuke clung to a shred of rationality like the last rooted twig before the abyss. _Limit the blasts. We want the shuttles to stay down, that's all. Aim away from the fusion plants - we haven't had time to practice and I don't want to find out just_ how much _we can cut through. Humans on the ground aren't targets. Even if they are frothing insane and trying to drag me down-_

_Little beasts, little killers_, Benihime crooned. _Come to us and die!_

…_You can kill all of those you like, love. _

_Very good, my-Kisuke._ Very _wise…. They threaten us. They challenge for our territory. They will not live to see dawn!_

Well, maybe. These wouldn't. They were smart, for Hollows, but he was faster. And Benihime _read_ them, sifting their pulses and auras to know they were moving almost before _they_ knew.

But he could :_feel_: more than those here. A lot more. Some farther away, almost cloaked in the :_Prey! Hunt! Feed!_: screaming from the barracks. And some… nearer. Much nearer.

_The hospital. Toushirou-_

_Cub will be fine_, Benihime soothed; a joyous, shivery bloodlust. _Cub has ice-dragon - and_ here _is not_ dry….

----

The prefabs didn't have ventilation ducts big enough to crawl through; Toushirou had checked days ago, peering over computer blueprints along with Shunsui and half a dozen other jumpy shinigami. And doors plus Hollows that out-massed you equaled deathtrap.

No idiot, he went through a window.

"Make it stop!" A patient was curled on the bed, hands over her ears, sobbing; apparently oblivious to the crash of shattering glass. "That _sound_… crawls on your skin… _don't let them eat me!_"

:_Prey! Prey! Easy feasting-_:

A snatch, and Toushirou had the mini-monster mummy-wrapped in barbed white fur. Lifted it up, eye to glowing silver eye. _Glared_.

:_"Mine."_:

Silence.

"Uh…." Eyes wet with tears, the patient blinked. "What… what just…." Saw him, and blanched. "Get away! _Get away from me!_"

"Hey! I'm trying to _help!_" Toushirou shook his head, on edge; every tendril wanted to prickle, something wasn't _right_-

_Too quiet_, the ice-dragon declared. _Too much noise before, for little-Hollow alone-_

:_Enemy!_: shrieked the creature, shredding itself in his grasp trying to flee. :_Enemy, swarm, swarm!_:

A clench, and it fell in a dozen pieces. He barely noticed the dripping blood, leaping toward the room's open door and the redoubled screams-

Froze for one lone instant, hand on his sword-hilt, at the shimmering wave pouring across the floor toward him.

_That? Is just not_ fair.

_My-Toushirou-_

:_"Hyourinmaru!"_:

Ice-blue surged with the slash of his blade; thickening, gathering every drop of moisture, slashing _down_ and _out_-

A score of frozen mini-Hollows shattered like glass. Along with the top inch of the floor. And a man-sized hole in the hospital's back wall.

"Cool…."

He wobbled down to one knee, sword still outstretched in trembling hands. _Maybe… that was a little too much…._

_No. Needed them dead_. Hyourinmaru's strength buoyed him up, kept him alert; _they_ were out of danger, but the pack was not. _Challenge, my-Toushirou! Let them know; let them fear! This is ours!_

One breath. Two. _Stand_.

"Bastards," Toushirou snarled. :_"Get the hell out of our home!"_:

----

Running with the others, injectors slung in a satchel over his shoulder, Juushirou shook his head. _Such language… I need to_ talk _to that young man_.

_Cub is upset_, waves murmured in his mind. _Sting later_.

_Talking_, Juushirou told himself - and not exactly himself - firmly. _No stinging_.

A wry, mental shrug. _Will see_.

_Wonderful. I'm losing an argument with myself… though it isn't quite me… oh, never mind._ "Sarge?"

"Stick to the plan," Petrillo huffed, keeping up with grim effort. "All I've got is a headache."

Which was a _good_ thing, Juushirou reminded himself, quelling his other's pang of disappointment. Headache but no fever meant the vaccine was doing what it was supposed to, and they needed every fighter they had-

:_Now!_: Yoruichi declared.

She and Tessai peeled off left, toward barracks full of screams. Sarge cut right, heading for the Command Center and sporadic gunfire; panicked as security was likely to be, anyone else would be shot before they could help.

Alone, Juushirou smiled, and never slowed. _Time to make an entrance_.

Blade drawn, he lashed out lightning, connecting in a crackling hiss.

_One down_.

He used the gap to skid through at Shunsui's back, almost running over Nanao. "Satchel," he got out, maneuvering so she could plunge a hand into it. "Injectors!"

"You have the vaccine? How?!?"

"We're as paranoid as you are lovely, ma'am," Shunsui got out between blows.

Nanao jerked her hand out, vaccine in a death-grip, as Juushirou was forced to parry and strike. "Don't you dare die, Major. I'm going to kill you _myself!_"

"Promises, promises…."

"Major veins," Juushirou advised, sinking into that _awareness_ of Shunsui's other. Letting his own guide hands and tentacles and blade. "Neck, arms, as close to the sting as you can-"

:_Our prey! Die!_:

A chilling, multi-voiced howl in other-sense. It battered at him, deadly as slashing tentacles.

_So many of them_.

He'd been hit at least twice; he could feel himself slowing. And if they fell, the Hollows would kill them, and _take_ Nanao….

_You knew you'd need to do this. Sarge told you, Shunsui needs you to do this._

Reaching within, Juushirou found the part of himself he'd held apart from his other. And let go.

:_Shunsui_. Listen _to us…._:

----

At his first glimpse of blasted shuttles, Ryuuken nearly tripped over his own feet in pure disbelief. _If this comes out of the PSWAT budget, Accounting is going to die of shock. _

Bodies littered the ground. He moved to the first and started injecting, not bothering to feel for a pulse. Cournoyer's horrible fate and their own speculations on how the first Hollow had gotten out of containment meant _every_ piece of infected flesh had to be treated as a potential Hollow-in-the-making.

_I hope they're not all dead. _

Some weren't, twisting and thrashing in the infection's grip. Some _seemed_ dead, but who knew; neurotoxins were funny that way. And some looked like they'd been run over by rabid paper-shredders-

:_Prey! Prey prey prey!_:

…Or swarmed by a horde of mini-Hollows.

Cross in hand, he fired.

The blast blew a hole in the wave of flesh. _And_ in the ground, gouging out a crater more suited to a grenade gone bad, and god, he'd _really_ rather not explain that to anyone outside the shinigami. Period.

:_…Prey bites! Run away-_:

Three red beams lashed out almost as one, and the last shrieks cut off.

Energy still trembling in his grip, Ryuuken eyed a grinning, bloodied materials scientist. "Kisuke?"

"That," the blond panted, still grinning, "was _fun_." He quivered in place, eyes glittering silver as he gazed toward the rest of camp. Toward the screams. "I think I'd like some more."

"These people need help," Ryuuken said carefully. "You're dead on your feet. Stay here, and give me a hand."

Kisuke looked wistful. Considering the blood dripping off his blade, it was terrifying. "But I _want_ to…."

"The others are going to encircle the Hollows," the Quincy said levelly. "If the creatures break, they'll come this way."

"Hmm…."

_Masaki, you'd better be right about this_. Ruuken swallowed, and _reached_. :_Kisuke. Need your help. Here._:

Silver fixed on him. Flickered, fading back to gray. Blinking, Kisuke swayed. "…Ishida?"

Ryuuken caught him before he could topple. "Are you hurt?"

"Not… exactly." Reaching into Ryuuken's satchel, he took an injector, and aimed at the nearest frothing body. "Don't let go of me. Just - don't let go."

----

_We don't need soldiers_, Yamamto-Genryuusai thought, firing furiously, _we need demon-slayers_.

Near invisible. Able to dodge bullets. Able to _heal_ bullet-wounds with incredible speed, glancing shots shaken off like water. And now, on top of that-

:_Eat you, prey! Toes, bones; crack and suck the marrow-_:

Half of his still-standing security - the ones that had made it _into_ the building in the first place - dropped like stones. Screaming, whimpering stones.

_I will not yield. I will_ not!

The world grayed out; a few, aching seconds of blankness that left the general on the threshold of pure panic-

And he was still standing, even if the core of his soul felt scraped raw. But many of those on the ground… weren't moving. From the dark marks of tentacle-stings on exposed flesh, they wouldn't ever move again.

He gritted his teeth, and fired at the Hollow's center of mass. The Hollow shrieked-

_God, that - not a_ sound, _what-_

It still hurt. But diffusely; like stumbling into a maze of brambles, instead of a stiletto to the heart. More guns joined his, the rest of his men shaking themselves out of that unnatural stupor. Barely.

_It's smart enough to know it has a weapon. Monsters aren't supposed to be smart_….

Of course. And it was just an _accident_ it had paralyzed the camp's nerve center. When, given past experience, if there was one Hollow there were _several_, meaning without organized leadership the rest of camp was _dead_. Not. Damn. Likely.

It lunged, faster than the eye could see, lead scattering across the floor like marbles.

And guns fell silent.

:_Only you left, prey._: Fanged jaws drooled from the ceiling. :_Run, so can be hunted!_:

Snarling, the general rammed in another magazine.

----

It felt kind of like waking up in a mud oven. Only without the extra-crispy option. Not to mention, ovens didn't have a pulsing sort-of-sound-sort-of-feel of :_worry, surprise, relief, welcome!_:

That last was the kicker. Like the first time he'd gotten drunk with the team, and knew he _belonged_-

"Ikkaku?" Isane's voice was distorted, filtered through something, but he'd recognize that fierce, pretty nurse anywhere. "Just breathe normally. Try to move your hands-"

He bunched muscles and _pushed_. And everything cracked apart.

Hands caught the striker before he could fall off the cot. _Hanatarou and Isane_, Ikkaku thought. Took a breath of cooler, fresher air, looked up-

Hanatarou and Isane, it was.

_How the hell did I_ know?

"You can tell people apart by their aura." Isshin waved from one side of the room, where a brunette in a doctor's white coat was perched on top of the tallest, most solid piece of equipment in the tent. And looking none too happy about it. "Ikkaku Madarame, Dr. Retsu Unohana. She's one of the relief people, and she hasn't been vaccinated."

"Which may have to change at any minute, given the situation," Masaki said from the other side of his cot.

"Which would suck," Kaien's voice drifted faintly up from the floor. "Odds are, she'd come out shinigami."

Brushing off a few sticky fragments - he was _not_ going to think about being in a cocoon, he just wasn't - Ikkaku looked down at the kid. Feverish, sweaty, familiar if oddly small pinpricks near his carotid. "Ah, hell."

"Oh, yeah," Kaien managed. Grimaced. "I'll be fine. If we live."

Ikkaku grimaced in sympathy. Hollows. Yeah. "Tell me later, where's my-"

_Crackle_.

"My." Breathless, but human. "That was less than elegant."

:_Welcome!_:

Ikkaku found himself gripping Yumichika's hand, claws and all, as everyone else swamped them in a mingled _joy, relief, worry_. Almost distracting enough to miss the obvious. "…Violet."

"What?" Yumichika snared a few near-black tendrils in one hand, eyes wide. "No! I spent _months_ finding just the right shampoo for jet black! This can't be happening!"

Oh man, not another rant on beauty products. For an all-around lethal guy, sometimes Yumichika was _scary_. "It's… unique," Ikkaku ventured. "Bet it'd be a _challenge_ to all those floofy stylists you like-"

His partner snickered.

"What?" Ikkaku swiped fingers across his head. Still bald. Kind of a weird relief.

"You… I… _magenta?_" Giving up, Yumichika collapsed in giggles.

Reluctantly, Ikkaku looked down at a tentacle. Yep. Magenta.

"…Right." Somewhere out there was a scientist or two who needed to _die_. Or at least get duct-taped to a ceiling. He shook his head, and swept his gaze across the non-giggling parties in the room. Couldn't be an accident what you had here were the medical personnel, mostly not fighters, and Isshin, who wasn't about to leave wife _and_ cousin hanging out to dry. "So. Hollows. Didn't we just leave this party?"

Isshin beckoned them over. "Grab some clothes, we've got a map."

Point. Fighting with tender bits dangling in the breeze sucked- What the hell? "Where are our _guns?_" Ikkaku demanded.

"Sarge left you a note," Masaki said ruefully. "Basically…."

"General's an _ass_," Kaien grumbled.

Skimming Sarge's note as he shimmied into modified black scrubs, Ikkaku had to agree. "No guns? No grenades? Not even goddamn stunners?"

"We're doomed," Yumichika sighed, slipping a sword through his own belt.

"Well, we're not exactly sitting pretty," Isshin admitted, tucking a bandaged Squeaker back into a cage of shaken mice, and tapping up a display on a hardened laptop that looked suspiciously like Sarge's. "Here's the camp. Here's us. There's the shuttle pad - Kisuke and Ryuuken are there, they've got the shuttles locked down, and they've pretty much wiped out the rat-Hollows that were after 'em-"

"Rats?" Yumichika's lip curled.

"We have no idea where they came from," Isane shivered.

"Somebody explored this island before. They could have hitched a ride." Isshin scowled darkly. "Doesn't matter. They're here, they're Hollows, and they're _fast_. We killed a bunch here, and Toushirou got a swarm of them at the hospital," he tapped the hospital icon, "but there's at least two more swarms, based on the amount of screaming we can sense. We don't know how many _human_ Hollows there are. Best guess, fourteen, minus three or four. Kisuke got one, and we heard a few more go down over _here_."

Command Center, mess tent, and three barracks, Ikkaku recognized. Okay. Fairly standard refugee camp layout… and toast with Hollows running loose. Great. Just great.

"Plan was for Sarge to go here," Isshin tapped the center, "Juushirou's hooking up with Shunsui," the mess tent, "and Yoruichi and Tessai were going to check the barracks. That's _not_ going to be pretty."

"Hollows," Yumichika said with a shrug.

"It's worse than you think," Masaki said grimly. "Now that some of the side effects have kicked in, normal vaccination responses seem to get overloaded by a Hollow's pulsing. Our mice were trying to _hide_; they weren't even able to bite to protect themselves. It looks like total sensory whiteout. If it weren't for the Squeakers…."

"An' people get hit the same way?" Ikkaku shot a look at Yumichika. "Don't say it."

"Aw…."

"Might not be as doomed as you think." Isshin was trying to grin, but the :_nervousness, cold fear_: gave him away. "Remember how we got that last door down?"

Ikkaku grinned, fierce and feral and eager. "You can show us how to trigger the psychokinesis."

"Psychokinesis?" Yumichika's newly-violet brow climbed, and he looked more than a little feral himself.

"We can," Isshin said reluctantly. "And may god have mercy on us all."

----

_This was a bad idea_, Yoruichi thought, tentacle to tentacle and hand and sword to claws as a Hollow that had been on a barracks roof tried to turn her into sashimi. Tessai was doing his best to keep monsters off her back, but between yet another swarm of Hollow-rats and the other Hollows that had been in the barracks hissing their way….

_Stick to the plan. Trust Sarge. Trust Kisuke. Trust yourself-_

:_Our territory!_:

Lightning and wind and a _challenge_.

_Juushirou and Shunsui_.

_Ours_, her other agreed fiercely. _Need us!_

_That's the plan, my friend_. Yoruichi faked a stumble back toward Tessai, whimpering :_hurt, venom chilling, too many!_:

None of which was a lie. Damn it.

_Wait, one second more, you know how predators think…._

Silver eyes narrowed. _Lunged_.

Tessai behind her, Yoruichi ran.

----

:_Here they come!_:

Quiet. Hidden in the valleys and shadows of :_Mine!_: and :_kill you!_: and :_will not yield!_: But unmistakably Juushirou.

Or his other. Hard to tell the difference, right now.

_I really, really want to panic…._

Because his friend was right, Shunsui knew; his friend had been right all along. And wasn't that a kick in the pants, when an analyst could see something about fighting that a trained soldier missed?

But facts were facts, and the truth was, if Juushirou hadn't swamped him with projections-

-_The way I swamped Isshin and Kisuke, oh_ man _do I owe them an apology_-

-He'd be dead. Now. Because as good a soldier as he was, he had to _think_ about using his tentacles to fight. And his other didn't.

_Just like the Hollows_.

:_Ours_,: Juushirou reassured him, in the midst of blood and death and terror. :_Ours, part of pack, not the enemy!_:

Right. Keep it together. People were counting on him. Juushirou was counting on him, to keep his head and stick to the quick and dirty plan 'Shirou and Sarge had slapped together bare minutes after they knew what they were up against.

…And if it were anybody else, he'd have told them to go take a flying leap at a black hole. Stick to a _data analyst's_ plan?

Only, _this_ data analyst made a damn good online ninja.

_Toushirou's keeping the hospital clear. Yoruichi and Tessai are luring theirs our way. Kisuke and Ryuuken are holding the hammer-_

From the Command Center, came a familiar and muffled _whump_.

_Sounds like Sarge had a grenade left after all…._

----

"Not bad." Sarge hauled the stung, swearing general to his feet, glancing over the bloody swath of destruction that had been a working Command Center. _Poor bastards_. "Anybody down who didn't get a shot?"

"You'd know most of them," Yamamoto-Genryuusai growled, ejecting a spent magazine, and patting himself down for a replacement. Grimacing, he bent to requisition more ammo from a body that wasn't going to be using it again. "Not that there's anything we can do for them besides a mercy shot-"

Straight-faced, Petrillo handed him an injector. "Think we've got something a little better than that."

Vaccine in hand, the general went white-lipped with fury. "I gave no such orders!"

"No, sir," Sarge said dryly. "Didn't order them _not_ to, either." He raised a thick brow. "You take left, I'll take right?"

"I need to rally the camp-"

"Being done, sir. By people who _aren't_ getting flattened when the Hollows turn up the volume." Injecting the nearest relief guy he recognized, he gave the general a sober look. "Less than an hour window, General. Clock's ticking. Major Kyouraku's on the job. Let him do it." He smirked. "Hell, we do this fast enough, we'll get a ringside seat…."

----

"Triage!" One of the doctors - Wilson, Toushirou read off a nametag - had snapped out of the panic and gotten everyone moving. "Vaccinated people this side, stung on _that_…." He looked at his bloodied arm, and swallowed dryly. "You say there's a vaccine coming?"

"Yeah, someone's-" Toushirou glanced up, and _moved_.

A satchel soared through the gaping hole, thumping into his hands. Skidding to a halt, Toushirou grinned, feeling the paired _presence_ leaping toward the fight.

_I want to go with them…._

Whirled, and shredded a mini-Hollow that'd tried to sneak off into the night.

_Pack needs us here_, Hyourinmaru sighed.

_Yeah_, Toushirou sighed back. Shunsui'd told him to stay. They _needed_ him to stay. _Stick to the plan_.

Handing out injectors, he watched for more rats.

----

_Fall back_, Juushirou thought; surprisingly calm, in the midst of carnage. _Keep falling back… not too fast, let them think they're pushing us…._

It wasn't like leading a computer-generated team online. NPCs _always_ had a chance to break and run, if the threat outmatched their morale. His people - weren't going to break. He could _feel_ it.

:_Weak! Weak little-deaths, meat to devour-!_:

Then again, neither were the Hollows. This was going to be close. Very close.

:_Wait_,: Shunsui whispered, a feverish Nanao over his shoulder as their surviving enemies pressed the attack and Yoruichi blurred toward them. :_Wait… run!_:

It happened so _fast_.

They bolted for the shuttlepad. Their Hollows surged after, giving Yoruichi and Tessai just enough room to pour on speed, and slip out from between the two Hollow swarms-

:_Running_-not-_afraid, little-deaths are-_:

_No more time!_ :_Ryuuken! Kisuke!_:

:_Duck_,: came the scientist's wry reply.

Blue-white and crimson slashed overhead.

----

_Not bad_, Yumichika judged, slashing into their enemies' flanks alongside Ikkaku. _Not the most exquisite of plans, but not bad_.

And much as it pained him to admit it, simple likely was best, given the material Sarge had had to work with. The Project people were determined, certainly. But they weren't strikers.

_Yet_, that other-voice chuckled within. _We'll see._

_Hmm, so we will_, Yumichika agreed, slicing through flesh and bone with that odd _twist_ of will Isshin and his other had demonstrated. It kept the Hollows from healing, but it drained them; he could feel Ikkaku starting to falter….

Two blurry tentacles came together, and there was a sizzling red flash.

Blink. _Ow_.

_Must have raised the sword to deflect it_, Yumichika realized dazedly, gazing at ruined metal in his grip from his sudden sprawl on the ground. He had to keep blinking, something hot and salty was dripping into his eyes….

_Oh. Bleeding_.

But Ikkaku was there, and the others were a breath behind with wind and storm and crimson, and the Quincy was raining blue fire on everything that howled….

Quiet.

"Partner? Talk to me, damn it-"

Yumichika grabbed Ikkaku's hand, heedless of the claws. "It got away."

"Yeah." His partner's voice was bone-weary, like he'd been fighting three days straight instead of a few minutes. "Yeah, two of 'em did, we'll get 'em-"

"Later." Major Kyouraku wasn't wavering on his feet, but there was a pinched weariness around gray eyes. "We need to see to the camp first."

Ikkaku snarled. "We're not letting the bastards _get away_-"

"We're on an _island_." Juushirou's voice was just as weary, but chill and calculating. "The shuttles are locked down. The nearest land is over eight hundred miles away, and I sincerely doubt a Hollow will try swimming while there are still :_prey_: right here. We have at least fifty more people to vaccinate who might have been infected, and we're running out of time to save them." :_Back down. Now._:

Cold. Unyielding. Immovable as Sarge in a bad mood. Kyouraku was behind it, _within_ it, like guiding hands on a sword's hilt. Strong; so very, very strong, in a way that had _nothing_ to do with who was most likely to keel over in the next few minutes.

Helplessly, Yumichika nodded. Saw his partner shaking, as Ikkaku did the same. _What are we_ doing? _Sarge gives us orders, no one else-_

_Pack-leaders_, his other said firmly. _Sheathe claws. Follow_.

_Are you_ insane? _Sarge is our-_

:_"Yumichika."_:

How a _data analyst_ had gotten that close unheard, he had no idea. But Juushirou's hand was on his shoulder, and white was whispering around his face, and-

:_Yumichika._:

Not just a name. This was determination, _possession_; staking a claim that would never be erased.

_We shouldn't have let Isshin in. God, we shouldn't have - it left a_ door _open-_

:_Yumichika. Ours. Our pack._:

:_…Yes._:

:_Enemy has retreated. Territory is ours. Not-pack needs aid. Pack_ will _help them._ Now.:

:_Yes._:

He felt Juushirou's smile, and a gentle press of lips to his forehead, licking away blood from the healing wound. :_Later, we will hunt._:

As if from far away, Yumichika felt the last chains on his demon break.

_Not a demon_, his other crooned; bloodlust and rage and an odd, breathless desire to curl into the pack-

_Not a demon. Just you. Part of you. Love you; love the pack…._

Night rushed back in, and he was trembling.

"Partner?" Ikkaku. Holding him, as a wide-eyed Juushirou stumbled back, looking just as shaken as the two strikers.

Yumichika swallowed dryly. "We'll follow your orders," he whispered. "Sir."

It should have felt wrong. He'd followed no orders but Sarge's for years….

"I'm not a sir!" Juushirou protested, pale. "I didn't mean to-"

"More shots, less talking," Major Kyouraku advised. Sighed. "The general is not going to be happy."

"Probably not," Yoruichi said dryly, severing a head from a seared body to be sure it was dead. "But I think we're getting better at this."

----

"Indefinite quarantine," Retsu frowned in the thin light of dawn.

"That's the word at the moment." Careful not to touch the toxic outer layer of Kaien's chrysalis, Isshin leaned close, as if listening for a heartbeat.

_Not listening. Electromagnetic sense_, Retsu thought, seeing black tendrils flutter. _And we really need to start putting together some vocabulary for that… so far, most of their comparisons include touch_ and _hearing. Which makes sense, given what Yoruichi found on electromagnetic sensing in Terran vertebrates. Touch-at-a-distance, according to the best biological theory. Combine that with the fact that vertebrates evolved hearing from vibration-sense in the first place…._ "How's he doing?"

"So far, so good." Isshin straightened. "Looks like it's going to be closer to three days than four for him; I got him right after the Hollow did, and believe me, he had plenty of adrenaline going." He glanced at the next chrysalis, and gave Retsu a reassuring smile. "We treated Nanao later, but it was still inside the window we got Yumichika in. She should be fine. Sixty more hours, and they should both be on their way toward cracking out."

_Thank god_. But relief only sharpened the barbs of frustration. "I'm a doctor. I should be out there!"

"You're _not vaccinated_." Isshin gave her a level look. "You saw how much we had to scrub down just in here. There are bits and pieces of Hollow scattered all _over_ camp. People were trying to stay alive; nobody was working out how we'd decontaminate the place later. Hollow tentacles can move for a long, _long_ time. If one of them zapped you while you were distracted, and nobody noticed in time…. And that doesn't even consider the rat-Hollows and their big brothers somewhere out there. They _want_ you." Fingers clenched; just a glimpse of razor white. "So. No, no, and _hell_ no."

"I could take-"

"Did you hear Kisuke tell you the odds?" Isshin arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "Ninety percent from him is damn near _certain_ from anybody else." He let out a breath, and deliberately rotated his shoulders, trying to relax. "Retsu. You're the last unvaccinated person in camp. Everybody else got exposed. Everybody else is _stuck_ here. _You_ might be able to go home. If we can keep you _safe_."

Soberly, Retsu nodded. _They've lost so much already. They want to win. Just this once. Even if it's for someone else._

And how much determination and sheer, bloody-minded stubbornness it was taking to keep her safe, she could only imagine. The simple fact that none of the other shinigami, pack-driven as they were, were in here - and that Isshin was _scrupulously_ keeping himself out of tentacle-reach - was telling enough.

_Hollows want to be not-alone. Desperately. And humans are pack animals. Put those two sets of instincts together…._

She trusted them. She did, or she wouldn't still be here, even with Masaki and Sarge or Ryuuken in screaming range. But they obviously didn't trust _themselves_.

_I can't blame them. If Yoruichi's right, and Hollows can't reproduce naturally - if I'd designed this weapon, I'd make it co-opt the reproductive instincts on top of the social ones. And that would be… very hard to fight. _

Well. Best to get both of their minds on something else. "It's hard to believe the Hollows were able to find… almost everyone."

"Not so hard," Isshin said flatly. "Nine hundred fifty-nine people on the project. Twenty percent of those would have been vulnerable. You do the math."

Retsu blinked. Almost two hundred who could have been transformed, and besides those few Hughes had murdered, only _nine_ had survived untouched long enough to become shinigami? What were the odds?

_A weapon. Odds had nothing to do with it_. "They did this before."

"Broke out, snuck around infecting people and hiding them, and hiding _themselves_ until they thought they had enough numbers to take us," Isshin agreed grimly. "Yoruichi thinks it could be programmed behavior. Some kind of biological cue. Maybe a scent. Maybe just a critical threshold of feeling other Hollows pulse." He looked away, into a horror of memory. "She's thinking something like locust swarms; Masaki says it's probably got a few more controls on it than that. Or at least, whatever the cue is, it isn't strong enough to short-circuit the brain. They didn't go after you, or Nanao, or Kaien, until they hit the whole camp. Given what we've… heard, off them… they recognize guns, they recognize some _people_…. I'm guessing they left you 'til last because you were always inside some kind of extra security. Our camp. Nanao with Yamamoto-Genryuusai's crew around her. _Hardened targets_, Sarge calls it."

"And you, in the project?" Retsu asked carefully.

"You know how much of a pain it is getting in and out of Level Four bio-containment? With all the extras Kisuke added? We'd stay in there days at a time even _before_ we knew what the general was bringing in." He ticked off the rest of the survivors on his fingers. "Tessai was pretty much the same, only on the physics end. Isane and Hanatarou worked nightshift a lot - and since anybody in trouble medically at night inside that box was likely to _be_ trouble, they always brought security with 'em. Shunsui _was_ security, and when he was off-duty, he liked to play with sharp pointy things. Juushirou's condition kept him way away from dark corridors, he slept with medical monitors, and when he was with just a couple people having fun, it was usually _with_ Shunsui. And Toushirou - I can't tell you what the Hitsugayas did until the general clears you. Let's just say there were enough people watching them they couldn't go missing, or the jig would have been up _damn_ quick."

And the implications of that - Retsu shivered.

"You all right?"

"I've heard of smart weapons, but this…." The doctor shook her head.

"Kind of why I think it was an alien, whoever made it," Isshin agreed. "They don't have a _clue_ about human psychology."

Retsu blinked. "In what way?"

"Something tries to eat us? We don't fold up and let it. We kill it _back_. With _fire_. Heck, with all the overkill we can get our hands on. We find out who or what did this, it's going to be a smoking hole." He frowned. "Either that, or they really do know psych, and that's what they're counting on."

A reflective silence. Retsu swallowed dryly. "I think that's even scarier."

"Tell me about it. I-" He tensed, and headed for the doorway, beckoning her to follow. "Come on. Something's about to go boom."

Hearing Kisuke actually _raise his voice_, Retsu gulped, and followed.

"What do you _mean_, she's not getting off the island?"

_At least he came to tell us in person,_ Retsu thought with bleak humor, stepping into the main area. Showing some degree of sanity, the general wasn't alone. Captain Rollefson was with him, and they were both armed. For all the good it might do against a Hollow.

_Or a shinigami_.

No, better not to think about that; not with almost all the pack here, save for the strikers out on watch with Sarge. Yoruichi and Masaki both had a light grip on Toushirou, and everyone else looked like they could have _used_ someone else holding them back. They might have cleaned off the blood and caught a short nap, but everyone was upset, tired, and still coming down from enough adrenaline to send a squadron of fighter pilots off the deep end. No need to add fuel to the fire. "I take it we're discussing my evacuation, General?"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"Whyever not?" Kisuke's voice was dangerously amused. "Put her in a harness, let a shuttle snag her without ever touching down. Decontaminate her over the ocean. Take her inside _naked_, if that's what will make your superiors happy. She's not infected. It will work."

_I am not going to hit him_, Retsu told herself firmly. _I am definitely not_. She'd seen enough to know he and Yoruichi were _very_ close. This wasn't at all male ogling; this was a real, practical suggestion to what seemed an impossible situation.

"I believe that's what you said about our original evacuation, Dr. Urahara."

Retsu gritted her teeth at the bite in those words. She might not have been able to feel the pulses, but she could see the jump in the pack's twitchiness. Not to mention Rollefson's literal jump, before he stiffened his shoulders and held his ground. "General," she said smoothly. _Calm. Stay calm_. "As I understand it, everyone here was exhausted before they evacuated. Surely, responsibility for decontamination was given to someone _slightly_ more awake?"

"It was." Juushirou's words were clear. Precise. Deadly. "Only when we did wake, it still hadn't been done." Hazel eyes watched the general like a hawk. "We disposed of everything contaminated, or so we thought…."

"But Sarge's team didn't have a chance until later to tell us that the damn tentacles _crawl_." Yoruichi wasn't - quite - growling. "Something could have gotten away before we found it."

The general snorted. "Obviously, something did."

_Plague psychology_. Retsu's eyes narrowed, the scenario clear in an instant. "Is that what they're saying in camp, Captain Rollefson?" She deliberately did not look at the general. "Is everyone claiming this is the _shinigami's_ fault?"

He wouldn't meet her eyes. Answer enough.

"I'm doing what I can, Doctor, but there's no getting around the facts," Yamamoto-Genryuusai said bluntly. "If I'd refused orders to send the strike team in after any one person, no matter how crucial to the project, we would have no contamination problem now."

Kisuke went white.

"Oh no," Isshin said coldly, voice dangerously level. "No, you don't get off that easy. You weren't ordered to send anyone in after _us_. Sergeant Petrillo's team was supposed to go after the _focus circuitry_. You wrote _us_ off as _acceptable losses_. We weren't _supposed_ to come out alive."

_My god._

"Rescue a few people, and endanger billions? Risk spreading this virus to every human-occupied planet?" The general's voice was steel. "Don't be a fool."

"And yet, if Sarge's team hadn't come in," Major Kyouraku observed, "we wouldn't have made it to the mass-transport. Not in time to keep the Hollows from breaking out. Meaning you wouldn't have had a chance to interdict the place before somebody carried the virus to the spaceport. And it _would_ be off the planet by now."

"You have no proof they could have-"

"You saw the physics lab recordings." Masaki was holding on tight to Toushirou, who looked as if he were caught between bolting from the tent and heading for the general with claws out. "It wouldn't even matter if they survived the teleport. If the virus survived, and some one or some_thing_ found the body…."

_Teleport?_ Retsu almost asked in disbelief. _But that's impossible-_

No. No, it wasn't, or these people wouldn't be standing here. And if it wasn't….

_This isn't Top Secret. This is a_ black _operation. The blackest. Oh my god…._

_I have a very bad feeling about this. _

"Hypothetical surmises are not our concern, Dr. Shiba," the general said bluntly. "The current reality, is. There will be no evacuation." Turning on his heel, he swept an impartial gaze across them. "So if you want to be seen as something other than the Hollows, I suggest you behave like human beings, and stop growling about it."

"But Dr. Unohana can't take the vaccine!" Isane blurted out.

On the threshold, he barely paused. "If the file I received is accurate, it's no more harmful to her than anyone else. Of course, I would never presume to dictate a doctor's conscience. Even with active Hollows still loose."

No one moved as he left, a wary Rollefson in tow. No one even _breathed_. Only Juushirou's hand twitched, silent warning.

A long silence, and Masaki finally let go of Toushirou. Who stood there, giving one corner of the room a hard look. "You didn't say anything," the youngster challenged. "You were going to, but you didn't. Why? You're PSWAT. Have your bosses call _his_ bosses, and we can _do_ something!"

"They haven't contacted me." Only a few scattered black strands were left in fine white, not enough to conceal the worry on the Quincy's face. "They should have, by now. They know where I am. But I've heard nothing."

"Tessai," Kisuke said thoughtfully.

The giant physicist inclined his head. "I've established a secure backdoor into the planetary 'Net," he said quietly. "There are currently limits to what data we should risk sending out, but I have been able to access some interesting information." He hesitated. "You won't like it."

"I already don't like it," Shunsui said darkly. "What have we got?"

"It would be more accurate," Tessai said plainly, "to say what we do _not_ have." Moving to the laptop Sarge had mostly surrendered to their use, he called up the 'Net and ran a simple query. On himself, Retsu saw.

_No such individual exists in planetary records_.

"Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?" Shunsui said at last.

"I've checked the records of everyone on the project," Tessai stated, still quiet. "In batches of random names, to avoid the watchdog programs… except for a few individuals, everyone is gone. Everyone from the project…." Sad eyes regarded Retsu. "And everyone who came to help."

Blindly, Retsu grabbed for a folding chair. Leaned on it, as the world seemed to crumble around her. _No records. No names, no identity, no bank account…._ It was like something out of a conspiracy movie. A _bad_ conspiracy movie. "They - they _ghosted_ us?"

"Even PSWAT." Tessai glanced at Ryuuken. "I'm sorry."

"They're going to be sorry," the Quincy said matter-of-factly. "Very, _very_ sorry."

Masaki looked none too steady herself, leaning into Isshin's comforting shoulder. "I never thought… even when the project first got paranoid, they never…."

"Sometimes, I really hate being right," Kisuke said softly.

Which seemed to be just enough warning for his friends to dog-pile him. "Let me go! I'm not going to kill him. I'm just going to _maim_ him a little…."

"No," Juushirou said firmly. "We can't." He cut a glance at Tessai. "The general is one of those individuals, isn't he?"

"Of _course_ he is!" Kisuke panted, struggling fiercely. "That's why we've got to-"

_"Think."_ Juushirou gripped a flailing wrist. "Sit on Benihime if you have to. Violence is not the answer here. We need strategy."

"'Shirou's right," Shunsui agreed. "They've got the advantage. We need to stop. And think. And plan. Or Retsu's going to have no chance to get out of here."

"You heard him, she _already_ doesn't-" Abruptly, Kisuke stopped struggling.

Yoruichi glanced at Isshin, purple brow raised. He shrugged back, and didn't let go.

"…I'm an idiot."

That seemed to be enough. They let him up, Yoruichi helping him brush himself off with a wry smile. "So," Kisuke said thoughtfully. "How long do you think we'll have to make nice with the general before he'll turn over enough equipment to rebuild the transporter?"

"Not sure…."

"Wait," Retsu said, still reeling. "Wait, wait, wait… you think you can _teleport_ me out of here?"

"Works in theory." And there was Kisuke's wry, knowing smile; a man who'd pulled one over on the universe, and was just waiting to see the resulting chaos.

"…Oh." _Head down. Slow breaths. Think. They think they can do it, so-_

The implications hit her like a ton of bricks. Retsu took a breath, and shook her head. "You'd be breaking quarantine."

"And? So? Your point? You have to get out of here, it's my fault you're-"

"It is _not_ your fault." She let go of the chair, and deliberately walked into arm's reach. And closer, laying a hand on his shoulder. "None of this is your fault. _None_ of you. You did everything you could."

He crumpled a little then, gray eyes suspiciously bright. "It would _work_."

"I believe you," Retsu said steadily. "That's why I won't let you do it." She swallowed dryly. "I'm a doctor, Kisuke. First, do no harm."

Another silence. She could almost feel them whispering to each other.

"Dr. Unohana," Juushirou said at last. "I've never specialized in epidemiological data, but… I don't think you need me to tell you the odds of our being able to keep you safe long enough to build a clean room."

"I know," Retsu said softly. Swallowed hard, and dredged up a wry, bittersweet smile. "I came to be your doctor. I can't do that inside a clean room."

He was the first to hug her. And the last to let go.


	4. Chapter 4

_Inventor of the shower? Genius_, Kaien decided, rinsing clean. And doing his best not to panic at exactly how much he had to rinse.

:_Safe. Kin._:

"Isshin, I'm _fine_."

"Hell no, you're not." Ostentatiously not facing the shower curtain, his cousin shrugged. "But if you want to push it - hurry up. We want to talk with Sarge about something, and we'd like you there."

Curious, Kaien ducked his head under water one last time, shut off the flow, and started toweling off. Chest, legs, hair- "Ow!"

"Don't try combing it." A rueful chuckle. "Too many nerves."

Kaien blinked, taken aback. "Haircut?" he managed.

A truly evil snicker floated through the curtain. "At last! I have defeated the mighty paladin Crewcut!"

"…Isshin? You're _weird_."

"Ooo, somebody hasn't looked in a mirror lately. Pot."

"Kettle," Kaien shot back, patting dry the… tendrils. A lot more gently, this time.

Dressed, he followed Isshin, grimacing a little at the fine mist of rain. "We need something better than scrubs."

"We've put in a request." Isshin sounded oddly preoccupied. "Might get farther when Nanao wakes up."

Right. He'd been trying not to dwell on the smaller chrysalis that had been right by his cot. Trying to focus more on the fact that it would be _when_, not _if_.

_But that's not what really hurts, is it?_

No. No, it wasn't.

:_Anger_: and :_sadness_: hung in the air, quiet and omnipresent as the misting rain. He'd known what choice Retsu had been forced to even before he'd been really awake. Known, and hated it, as much as the rest of the pack did.

_And Isshin's going to do something about it. _

He didn't know what. He just _knew_.

They entered the secondary supply tent, currently stuffed full of one large strike team leader and a bunch of angry biologists. "Kaien?" Sarge asked, one dark brow raised.

"Honestly? I've had better days, Sarge." Kaien shrugged. "But it beats dead. And it _definitely_ beats turning into a monster." He glanced around, taking count. Isshin, Masaki, Kiuske, Yoruichi, and Ryuuken. Oh yeah. This was definitely going to be bad. Or at least, explosive. Right in Yamamoto-Genryuusai's face.

_Couldn't happen to a nicer guy_.

Sarge didn't have enough tendrils yet to read any of that through pulses, but the guy knew him too well. "What'd you do?" he asked Kisuke dryly.

"Nothing," the blond said honestly. "Yet."

A deliberate nod from the striker. "See, it's that last word that bothers me."

"We might not do anything," Kisuke shrugged. "It's very possible that the general's superiors _totally eliminating_ our personal records from the planetary database was just… overreacting. Momentary panic. They might get over it."

"And if they don't?" Sarge said neutrally.

"Dr. Unohana made a very convincing moral argument," Ryuuken stated. "We won't risk spreading the Hollow virus outside contaminated areas."

"Uh-huh." Sarge folded his arms, evidently waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"But if this is a weapon," Yoruichi observed, "what good will keeping us secret do, when it's used again?"

Sarge started to say something, and bit off a curse.

Masaki nodded, equally sober. "Sweeping us under the rug only works if this is a one-time event. If it's not - then we should _be_ public, so people can have time to get used to the idea."

"Or at least panic _before_ the virus hits, so it does less damage," Isshin said wryly.

"Nice. Moral high ground. Try using it on the general," Sarge said, equally dry. "Think I wouldn't notice? You're talking something that could backfire on all of you, and Juushirou and Shunsui _aren't here_."

"And they won't be," Ryuuken said plainly. "They told us, they don't want to know."

…_Oh_, Kaien thought, stunned. _Uh-oh_.

"But they do know, don't they?" Sarge said thoughtfully. "Like I know. Maybe I don't know shinigami, much, but I know strikers. This isn't about viruses, or aliens, or even sticking Yamamoto a good one. Somebody jammed you into a cage, and you want _out_."

"It's always possible the general could change his mind," Kisuke said levelly.

"Cold day in hell," Sarge shrugged.

"We'll hope for ice skates," Kisuke said sardonically. "But if not…." He raised a brow at Sarge. "I suspect we could use some professional advice."

Isshin, Kaien noted uneasily, was _grinning_ at him.

"Interesting theoretical problem," Sarge said casually. "Sounds like a good way to spend Friday night with a few beers."

"Well, in regards to that…." Masaki sighed. "We've been finding a few unexpected features in shinigami biochemistry."

:_"Auuggghhh!"_:

"You told Shunsui we can't get drunk?" Yoruichi snickered.

Isshin winked. "I sent him a memo."

Kaien was still sputtering from that - god, alien invading genes and Isshin _still_ hadn't changed? - when the world _tingled_.

:_Will not stay here._: Isshin, Kisuke, Yoruichi; even Masaki and Ryuuken, though they were matches to a flame. :_Will_ not _be caged._:

:_Kin. Coming?_:

"I'm in," Kaien said finally. And smirked. "You mad scientists need all the help you can get."

-End.


End file.
